


I pray for your life (that you forget about mine)

by ikkitsun



Category: Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Angst, Gore, M/M, Major Injury, Panic Attacks, Psychological Trauma, Violence, split-personality, the hunger games - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-06
Updated: 2017-06-22
Packaged: 2018-05-25 02:53:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 27,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6177319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ikkitsun/pseuds/ikkitsun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He could hear Aomine screaming at him to get back in line, to not go through with it, he could hear the commotion of the other children, he could hear his mother's lamenting wails and then, suddenly, he could hear nothing but his own words.</p><p>“I VOLUNTEER!” His voice was many octaves higher than usual, it sounded strangled and raw and so, so desperate as he cried out, “I volunteer as tribute!”</p><p>Oh, how bittersweet those words soon became.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. And time has numbered their days

**Author's Note:**

> So this is going to be a wholly soul destroying story, if you have any ideas, feel free to talk to me at my tumblr: icanshouyoutheworld

Kise Ryouta wasn’t afraid of death, in fact that was the one thing that had never frightened him. Dying was the easy part, it was everything leading up to that moment and all the different ways he could meet his end that scared him. Would he slowly starve to death? Would he become weak and ill? Would he be crushed under heavy rocks underground? Would he be slaughtered for the Capitol’s twisted entertainment in the Hunger Games? He didn’t know which of them it would be, but he knew that he would prefer some methods over others, however he was already stick thin with bones that protruded painfully under his pallid skin – so he tried not to not think about it quite so much.

“Ryouta, pass me the water.” Kise’s dull eyes flicked over to where his mother was fumbling with a dirty grey cloth, it was torn and tattered with many threadbare holes. It took a moment for Kise to react to the orders; he was sluggish and barely cohesive, with heavy limbs and an empty stomach. Not even his mother had enough energy to make the demand a second time, but Kise could feel her sharp hazel eyes boring into his head. He lifted himself from the rickety old wicker chair he’d been seated in in the corner of the room, next the dusty open window so that he could feel the light breeze in an attempt to feel more alive, and wrapped both hands around the thin rusty handle of the metal pail, half-filled with fresh water. Kise’s whole body trembled as he carried it over to his mother, and he couldn’t help but remember a time when he could run and jump and carry stones to build bridges over shallow puddles, a time when despite still having little food, he had energy. He missed being a child.

The pail made a loud clattering noise as it knocked against the edge of the table, Kise simply didn’t have the strength to lift it onto the table. His mother sighed in a way that suggested she was annoyed as she hurried around the table to help her son; together they completed the simple task. With a hand coated in a thin layer of grime, Kise gently pushed his older sister’s brunette hair away from her half-closed eyes and tucked a couple of the longer strands away from her flushed face. Kise couldn’t help but wonder how long her fever was going to last. He could only hope that she makes it through her illness. He’d already lost his eldest sister to cholera just a few months prior, and he’d lost his father to a mining accident which happened when he was twelve – now it was just him, his mother, and his older sister. . . although he wasn’t sure that his sister would be with them for much longer.

His mother dunked the cloth into the water before wringing it out and handing it to Kise, who carefully placed it on his sister’s forehead. Tears gathered in his eyes and he made no attempt to wipe them away, instead allowing them to trail down his face and to drip off his jaw and onto the mouldy, crooked surface of the table his sister was laid out upon. Cold, dry hands found their ways to his cheeks; they then travelled down his neck and came to rest on his bony shoulders.

“I’m sorry, Ryouta,” his mother’s voice cracked as she spoke, her own red-rimmed eyes watered as she caught her son’s honey-coloured orbs, “I’m so sorry,”

“It isn’t your fault, mom.” His voice was quiet and low, barely above hearing level; cracked lips split and began to bleed as he forced a sad smile. He didn’t quite know what his mother was apologising for, it could’ve been for numerous things; his sister’s illness, not having enough money, for having no food or clean, drinkable water, or for the fact that today may be the last day they ever see each other. Kise’s mother wrapped her stick-like arms around his neck; Kise leaned down to lessen the burden on his mother, he was much taller than her after all. He held her close and buried his face in her shoulder, he didn’t care if he was sixteen-years-old, this was his mother and damn it all the way to hell if he was chosen and he never got to see her again, at least he’d of given her all the love he could. He just prayed he weren’t chosen. He just prayed that by some inkling of good fortune his name wouldn’t be drawn from that glass ball.

He just prayed for his own safety on this morbid day, the 75th Quarter Quell Hunger Games was definitely going to be a Game to remember.

 ***

The Hob was bustling as usual; he would have thought that a good thing, it meant that business was going smoothly and that no trouble had been caused. Kise knew that the majority of the people in District 12 were good, loyal people, but he just wished that they’d have left some affordable food behind. Kise stood before an empty basket of bread as his stomach growled and gurgled, his mother had given him one task, to go and get her some bread so they could at least have something to eat before going out for the Reaping – but it looked like that wasn’t going to happen now. The woven basket next to the empty one had the most savoury, delicious smells of warm, freshly baked bread, and the three loaves that were in there looked even more wonderful than they smelt. However, when Kise looked down to the measly sum of grubby money in his clammy hand he noted that he didn’t have enough.

That was when a gangling, dark-skinned arm reached past him and grabbed all three of the loaves. Kise gasped and was about to say something when he realised who it was. The towering man quickly paid for the bread before throwing two of them at Kise, the blond somehow managed to catch them solidly, just the sight of his childhood friend helped him regain strength.

“Aominecchi!” Kise exclaimed, using the affectionate name he gave Aomine when they were children, a genuine smile finding its way to his lips. He ignored the metallic taste of his own blood as his lip began to bleed again. Aomine grinned and scratched his head with his right hand.

“Long time no see, Kise! And before you say anything, those loaves are my ‘Long Time No See’ gift from me to you,” He laughed, letting his arm drop back down to his side. He leaned towards Kise and whispered in his ear, so that they weren’t overheard by any Peacekeepers, “Let’s go to the clearing,”

Kise nodded, wincing when he became light-headed and had to grab onto Aomine’s shoulder to keep from fainting. “O-okay,” He mumbled when he’d regained his bearings, “but first, I just have to drop the bread off for my mom.”

“Come on then, we’ll have to hurry, we need to be able to get to the clearing and back in time to get ready for the Reaping,” Aomine slung an arm around Kise’s shoulders as they strode back in the direction of Kise’s home.

When they reached it, Kise quietly opened the door in an attempt to reduce the creaking noise it produced so not to disturb his sister, and slipped inside, Aomine following. Sure enough, his mother had brought the wicker chair Kise had been occupying earlier over to the table side as she tended to her sick daughter.

“Ryouta, you’re back! And Daiki, too?” Her lightly wrinkled face broke into a smile as she stood up and hobbled towards Aomine, embracing him in a light hug. “I haven’t seen you in ages!”

Aomine returned the hug, when they pulled away he put his hands into the giant pockets of his grey overalls – in which his loaf of bread also resided.

“Mom, I brought us some bread, Aominecchi bought it for us since they didn’t have any of the regular stuff. I think this had seeds or something in it. . .” Kise trailed off as he scrutinised the loaf before handing two of them over.

“Keep one for yourself, Ryouta; you need the strength more than I do,”

“B-but- ”

“No ‘buts’. Now take it,” she thrust the food into Kise’s hand and made sure that he kept a hold on it. “Thank you so much, Daiki. . . How did you even manage to get the money for these? I’m sorry that I don’t have enough to pay you back though. . .”

“Ah, don’t worry Kise-san! My family already has enough food and I had some left over money from work, so I decided to do something useful,” Aomine reassured her. He looked behind Kise’s mother to where his older sister lay. “Kiyoko’s still sick?”

“. . .Yes, I-I’m not sure if she’ll make it,”

“Always have hope, Kise-san, always have hope. You’re a good person, so if there are any Gods up there after all, they’ll help you and your family – and off course if there aren’t any Gods up there, then there’s always me, if you know what I mean!” Aomine joked. Kise had missed Aomine’s personality and the aura he generates. He is the one person in this cruel, unfair world that gives him hope.

“Anyways, mom, we’re heading out for a little while,” Kise bowed slightly, he glanced at his sister before turning away and leaving the house.

“Be back in time to get ready!” His mother called after him. Once the door was closed, Kise felt his throat beginning to close up as tears once again burned in his eyes. Although this time, he didn’t allow them to fall, instead he blinked rapidly to hold them back – it wasn’t safe to cry yet. Aomine affectionately ruffled his hair before returning his arm to where it was previously, around Kise’s shoulders.

“It’s gonna be okay, don’t worry, Kise.” Aomine gave a half-smile. It was different to the other smiles he gave – this one was small, sad and sincere. Kise couldn’t help but notice how different they both acted depending on who they were with. Rather than answer, Kise opted to stay silent.

The two of them weaved their ways through the houses, avoiding the muddy puddles from last night’s storm and stepping over a group of children’s game of marbles in one large stride. The air smelt stale and musty, but Kise and Aomine were more than accustomed to it by now, after never having left District 12 in the whole of their lives. Before long, the tired, barbed fence was in view, the decaying wood damp and leaning, and the rusted wire was drooping towards the floor. Hung up was a dull yellow sign, it stated to stay away from the fence, since it was charged with electricity however the both of them knew that not so much as a volt had travelled through it in over two months. Nevertheless, they still both paused in front of it; they stayed silent so that they could listen for the dull buzz. As expected, it wasn’t active.

Aomine was the first to worm his way beneath the fence, lying on his back to keep the loaf of bread in his pocket safe. Kise quickly glanced around him before following his friend’s lead. He knew full well that what they were doing was illegal but that wasn’t going to stop them – these were the times that Kise lived for. Once they were both on the other side, they quickly gathered what little energy they had into a short sprint as they made a break for the trees ahead. The blond’s breaths came out heavy and ragged, his thumping heart beat heavily into his ribcage and his legs began to tremble and ache instantly, but it was all worth it just to feel the rush of adrenaline and the blood pumping in his veins. His happiness was soon revoked though as his legs gave in, the intense hunger and thirst cramped his body and left him dizzy and unable to think clearly.

“Kise!” Aomine cried as he put his natural agility to good use, jumping over a fallen tree branch to get back to Kise from where he’d ran ahead. Aomine caught Kise before he hit the ground, pulling him to his chest before lowering them down onto the damp ground below. They still weren’t very far inside the forest, so Aomine manoeuvred Kise so he was leaning against a tree, before helping him up onto his back. Kise, in his dazed state, wondered how Aomine could still have so much strength in him, although it probably had something to do with the fact that Aomine still had a job – so he was much more active, earned more money, and therefore brought more food.

“Thanks, Daiki . . .” Kise murmured softly before his heavy eyes slid shut.

***

Kise awoke to the aroma of cooked meat, it was mouth-watering, and it was enough to get him to open his eyes.

“Kise! Hey there! You okay? You scared me!” Aomine quickly rested a long stick with a skewered bird attached to it across a makeshift fire before shuffling over to Kise.

“Ugh. . . My head,” Kise groaned, raising a hand to his aching head as he sat up. Aomine held a hand to his back and quickly took the cooked bird off the fire as well as a large, slightly rusted, metal canteen filled with drinkable water.

“Here, eat this, I caught it whilst you were asleep,” Aomine handed Kise the bird and the container and watched in mild amusement as the teen ravenously wolfed it down, pausing only to take large gulps of the water.

“How- How long was I out?” Kise asked in-between mouthfuls, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Aomine hummed, he held a hand to his chin in mock thought.

“About two hours, more-or less,” He said. All of a sudden Kise’s eyes widened and he began violently choking on whatever bird it was he was eating. Aomine just laughed loudly and gave him a hearty slap on the back. “Just kidding, you’ve only been out for like, half-an-hour, probably less, I don’t know, I didn’t really keep track. But _relax_ we still have ages of time to get back!”

Kise whined when he realised he’d been tricked, “Aominecchi! How mean!”

“Sorry, Kise, I had to lighten the mood somehow,” Kise took another bite out of the small bird, he’d almost finished it now and he felt bad for not having properly thanked Aomine for all that he’d done.

“I’m scared, Aominecchi.” Kise stated, swallowed before placing the remains of the impaled bird down on the ground. Aomine stomped on the fire to put it out before taking a seat, cross-legged, next to Kise, the ground was damp and slightly muddy but neither of them minded.

“You know what?” Aomine asked, looking down at his hands, “I’m terrified.”

That caught Kise’s attention. He raised his head slowly and looked at Aomine, first he just glanced over his face, but then he stopped and concentrated. When he looked at his friend like this, he could see that Aomine was just as malnourished as he was. His cheeks were hollowed and his eyes were sunken into their sockets, dark rings beneath them suggesting a lack of sleep – and Kise knew that if Aomine were to take off his white shirt and grey overalls, his ribs would be just as prominent as his were. They were both just pitiful.

Aomine sighed before continuing, fiddling with a small leaf he’d just picked up off the ground as he spoke. “My name is in the mix quite a lot this year. It’s in there sixteen times already for my age, and then an extra seven times for when I’ve had to get tesserae because of that stupid shortage. . . I just have a really bad feeling this year, you know? I just. . . I don’t know I just feel like this time, my luck is going to run out and I’m going to be thrown in the ring.”

“My name is in there thirty-four times this year.” Kise said quietly, more to confirm it to himself rather than to tell Aomine.

“Th-thirty-four?!” Aomine yelled, whirling to look at his friend, his blue eyes blazing. “Kise! What the hell were you thinking?!”

“I wasn’t! Okay?!” Kise cried, tears beginning to well up once again, he felt pathetic. “Natsuko was ill and we needed money for medicine but we also needed food! So I signed up without my mom knowing! B-but in the end it still wasn’t enough! Nothing I do can possibly ever be enough!”

“No, you’ve done more than enough, I’m sorry, Kise, I shouldn’t have yelled.”

“I’m just so tired of this,” Kise brought his legs up to his chest and wrapped his lanky arms around them, resting his forehead on his knees. “Why do they have to make these damn games anyways, there are much bigger problems going on. They should be focussing on keeping us all healthy rather than sending emaciated kids to fight to the death.”

Aomine hummed. “I just wish we’d all be treated a little more fairly. Even if the games still have to go on, it would be nice to have as much food as the richer districts – at least then it would be a fair fight.”

“I just want my family back.” Stated Kise, ignoring Aomine’s attempt at lightening the conversation again.

The blue-haired teen looked at Kise, a ghost dancing in his eyes, “I just want my friend back,”

***

By the time Kise had gotten back home, he barely had enough time to get ready. His mother had, luckily, already prepared a bath for him, so all Kise had to do was strip and get in it. He caught he reflection in a cracked mirror and grimaced at the sight. Skin stretched over distended bones, skeletal shoulders jutted out painfully and tired eyes watched dully; sometimes, just sometimes, if he looked hard enough he could still see the way he used to look – before the food shortage, before all the extra stress, before the time he had to worry about his name being Reaped. Pulling his eyes away, Kise slowly lowered himself into the tin bath with a quiet sloshing sound; he sat with his legs bent and the tops of his knees above the water. Then, he heard footsteps coming towards him, and saw a silhouette behind the thin fabric curtain that separated the bathroom from the rest of the house, his mother knocked on the wall twice with her knuckle before peeking her head around the curtain.

“You forgot your towel,” she smiled, stepping forwards and laying the folded item down on a nearby stool. Normally, Kise would have felt that this was an invasion of privacy, however today he didn't really mind. “Could I wash your hair for you?” His mother asked, running a hand through Kise’s hair, gently tugging out the tangles and knots. 

“Yeah,” Kise bit his lip and looked from his mother’s face to the surface of the water he was seated in. The woman took hold of the rim of a nearby rickety stool and pulled it forwards, emitting a scraping noise as the wood of the stool ground against the wood of the floor, and moving the towel so that it instead resided on the floor next the bath. She took a bar or sweet smelling soap from one of the pockets in her light grey apron and balanced it on the rim of the bath next to Kise's head before dunking an old plastic cup - previously containing their toothbrushes - into the bath water and pouring it over Kise's head. The water was slightly cold and sent a chill down the blond's spine each time his mother doused it over his head nevertheless he was still grateful.

Kise sighed as his mother ran her soapy fingers through his hair; it was relaxing and helped take his mind off of things for a little while. The soap had a beautiful scent, it was aromatic like lavender but it wasn't overpoweringly so, nor would it make him smell girl-ish, Kise knew that this was his mother's best soap but she wouldn't have used it if she didn’t want to - so he made no move to stop her. Once his hair was clean and rinsed, his mother ran her fingers through it once more before pulling his head into her chest. She kissed the top of his head before standing from the stool and placing the towel back on it.

"I'll go and set your clothes out on your bed, and once you're done, there's also something I'd like to give you - just to keep luck on your side,"

He finished up in the bath rather quickly, after thoroughly scrubbing the living daylights out of every inch of his body and leaving his skin a pinkish colour; making sure that not an inch of dirt was left behind. Wrapping the tattered towel loosely around his waist, Kise then made his way back to the main room, which was where his bed resided. Their house consisted only of one floor, and unlike the houses of wealthier people, which consisted of different rooms such as a kitchen and multiple bedrooms, Kise's house had only two rooms. The main room, and the bathroom; the bathroom, however, was only separated from the rest by a thin curtain which pulled straight across. Sometimes he wondered whether their house had just been built wrong due to architectural issues or whatever, but then it was later that Kise realised that it was simply because they didn't have any money.

Laid out atop his crumpled bed covers were his best pieces of clothing, he had never worn them before but he knew that they’d fit – his mother was freakishly good at picking out the correct size clothing. There was a white shirt and a pair of smart, black trousers, although he had to wear the same footwear as usual, his worn pair of leather boots. He wasn’t complaining though, it must have cost his mother an arm and a leg just to afford the clothes; he hoped that he wouldn't grow any taller so that they’d fit him again next year. If there was a next year that is. Kise quickly pulled his clothes on, did up all the buttons on his shirt, fastened his trousers, and then sat down on his bed to wait for his mother, who was busy helping his older sister, Kiyoko, to bathe. She’d apparently woken up in the time Kise had taken to bathe and dress, so she also needed to get ready for the Reaping.

Unfortunately, even though Kiyoko was in such an ill and fragile state, she was still required to attend the Reaping like everyone else. If only she had been born one year earlier, if only it were coming up to her twentieth birthday rather than her nineteenth; how cruel must the Capitol be for expecting even the gravely ill to attend? Kise had considered making his mother keep Kiyoko at home, but that act would probably get them into a lot of trouble with the Peacekeepers. Anyways, there were other people’s names in the mix, other people that had probably signed up for Tesserae many times more than his older sister had – Kiyoko’s name was in the mix twenty times. That wasn’t that much. . . was it?

“Ryouta,” his mother called as she entered the room through the bathroom curtain roughly ten minutes later.

“Where’s Kiyoko?” Kise immediately asked.

“She’s getting changed. I gave her one of my best dresses to wear,”

“Will she. . . Will she be alright. . .?”

“Yes,” a raspy voice replied, that definitely wasn't his mother’s voice.

“Kiyoko!” Kise cried out, quickly running over to his sister. Kiyoko was, like his mother, much smaller than he was in height. Kiyoko stood at around  five-foot-three, so she just came up to his shoulder, she had long dirty-blonde hair,  hazel eyes and was wearing a delicate-looking light blue dress. It had short sleeves and tied into a bow at the back, it came to her bony knees and had a ‘flowy’ feel about it. Despite her illness, she still seemed energised, which was a complete contradiction to what his mother had said about her not making it.

“H-hey, Ryouta!” Kiyoko laughed croakily, as if her voice hadn't been used in days. Kise pulled her in for a tight hug, pulling away when she began to tremble and cough into his shoulder; he led her over to his bed where they both sat down. Kise made sure to keep an arm around her, and in return Kiyoko leaned into his side.

“Ryouta, Kiyoko, I have something for you each. I know that it isn't much, but they were your father’s and I think that now is the time to give them to you, I hope that they’ll at least offer some protection.” Their mother reached into another of her many apron pockets and pulled out a worn black box. It was small and looked like the kind of packaging a wedding ring might come in. When the box was opened, a pair of small, looped silver earrings were revealed. Kise held out his hands as his mother placed the left one in his hand, Kiyoko did the same as the right earring was given to her.

“A-are you sure this is okay?” Kise stuttered, turning the tiny silver loop around with his fingers.

“Yes, your father would be proud to see you wearing them, and now, you two will always be connected by those earrings – which means that you’re also connected to me and your father and your sister, Natsuko. Forever and always.”

Kiyoko was the first to react, she gave a shuddering sigh before throwing herself into their mother’s arms, Kise was quick to follow, the both of them murmuring their thanks, with the earrings clutched tightly in their fists.

Then, before they knew it, it was show time.

The Square was already packed with people, so Kise held Kiyoko close to him to make sure she wasn’t accidentally knocked over; their mother had already gone to stand in the designated area for adults. The blond teen caught himself glancing around the place, as though he were trying to find something, or somebody, and it didn't click in his head that he was searching for Aomine before they finally found each other. It gave him an unrecognisable sense of relief, which washed over him and eased the overflowing pool of anxiety that was already lodged deeply in his gut.

“Aominecchi!” Kise yelled, his voice held little emotion. Aomine quickly spun on his heels, jogging back towards them whilst warily keeping an eye on a Peacekeeper which seemed intent on watching him.

“Hey, Kise! Hey Kiyoko-San!” Aomine kept his voice much lower than usual, as though he was trying not to gather too much attention.

Kiyoko scoffed, “How many times do I have to tell you to call me Kiyoko, Ao-chan?”

“Oi, until you stop with the ‘-chan’ the ‘-san’ is staying!” Aomine poked her in the shoulder good-naturedly. The three of them continued to wind through the reams of people until they reached the DNA testing stations, where a Peacekeeper would prick their fingers in order to draw blood and access their data, basically to make sure that they were who they said they were. It's also a kind of population control, so the amount of people in the Districts can be counted and the Capitol can see whether there are reasons behind there not being enough supplies to suit them, or at least that’s what Kise supposed.

“Well, here’s where I have to leave you, Kiyoko.” Kise finally stated as they reached the line.

 Kiyoko smiled, “I know, I’ll be fine, don't worry about me,” although Kise couldn't help but doubt her words. She still had a thin layer of sweat covering her body, her hair was sticking to her face and her skin was deathly pale – she looked as though she were on death’s door as she walked away on those stick legs.

“Have a little faith, would ya?” Aomine nudged Kise with his shoulder, “Also, I was wondering, what’s with the earring?”

“They were my father’s,” supplied Kise.

Aomine hummed, “Ah, my old man never really had any keepsakes, he was pretty simple like that,” Aomine’s father had died in the same mine-explosion that had killed his own, in a way, it had brought the two of them even closer than they were before, in some sick, twisted manner.

The two of them were quiet as they had their fingers pricked. Kise, despite having eaten and drank before leaving, still felt oddly lightheaded as he watched his finger bleed – he never was one for blood or gore. Afterwards, Peacekeepers led them to where they’d stand, they were nearer the back than before, and this year Kise and Aomine weren’t immediately next to each other. Kise was on the inside edge of his row (which was where the Tributes would walk through if their name were called) and then there were two people Kise was barely acquainted with in-between him and his blue-haired friend. As he stood and waited for everyone else to find their places, Kise’s honey eyes were drawn to the large, singular glass ball waiting innocently on a podium on the stage ready to condemn two children to their deaths. Kise couldn’t help but think back to the conditions of this year's Games.

 ***

It was early evening before the TV station had automatically switched over to President Shirogane’s broadcast. Kise, his mother, and his older sister were huddled in main Square of District 12, amongst others whom didn't have their own Television or were simply in the area.

“Good evening, people of Panem,” President Shirogane's voice rang through the speakers, it wasn’t the best quality, but that had been fine with Kise, he hadn’t wanted to listen in the first place. “As you all know, this year marks the seventy-fifth annual Hunger Games – the Quarter Quell is upon us at last! Oh, it is such an. . . _exciting_ event,”

“Yeah right it is,” Kise had muttered under his breath as he’d continued to view the broadcast.

“This calls for a Games we’ll all remember, so, without further ado, let’s see what this year’s events shall entail!” The grey haired man reached into a box containing a selection of envelopes and plucked one of them out. He slowly opened it with gentle fingers, as though attempting to build suspense.

Shirogane raised his eyebrows and gave a small nod. “This year, all tributes names will be entered into a single bowl. Therefore, the chances of a tribute’s name being called are different to how it would have previously been, this also means that boys and girls can Volunteer for each other. This will certainly be an interesting Reaping. . .” After that, Kise completely tuned out of what was being said. All the names were going to be mixed together? What was the point in doing that? Wasn’t there supposed to be one male and one female tribute to make it fair? Well. . . Nothing was ever fair when it came to the Capitol, but at least this meant that there was less of a chance that his name would be called out. But, wasn’t that what everyone was thinking? Was that the Capitol’s aim? False hope? Kise didn’t know at the time, but he was sure that he’d figure it out later, he always did – when it was too late.

***

Once everyone was standing in their designated areas, the Reaping began. Firstly, the Mayor gave a speech regarding the Hunger Games, how it came about and why it was so important in their culture, yet Kise wasn't listening to any of that, he’d heard the same story for the three previous years he’d been here – everything was the same as it had been before, including the gut-wrenching anxiety and the frantic pounding of his heart, well everything except this year’s escort anyways.

A woman with pastel-pink hair braided intricately around her head and dark pink eyes made her way into view, the small skip in her step despite the height of the black heeled shoes she was wearing amazed Kise in a way that nothing else ever would. She wore a ruffled pink dress with white lace around the edge and small, three-dimensional butterflies attached the whole way up; the butterflies were in large clusters nearer the bottom of the dress but began to thin out as they neared her large chest and thin shoulders. Her pale face was lost in the heavy eye makeup and bright lipstick but nevertheless she was rather pretty.

The small woman clasped her hands behind her back and leaned forwards into the microphone before beginning to speak.

“Welcome to the seventy-fifth Hunger Games! I'm this year’s escort, Momoi Satsuki, and it is a pleasure to meet you all. Before we begin the Reaping, let’s watch this short little video, it’s travelled all the way from the Capitol!” Her voice dripped with enthusiasm, Kise couldn't ever picture how anyone could find this job fun but people from the Capitol were all hard to understand like that.

Suddenly, the large screen to Momoi’s right lit up with the emblem of Panem. It played through a video that Kise could recall almost word-for-word. In it, it showed how the Districts were formed as well as the destruction of District 13 as well as why the Hunger Games was brought about – as a punishment for their parents and grandparents for ever daring to rebel against the Capitol. Kise’s turned his head to look at Aomine; he was surprised to see that the dark-skinned teen was already looking at him. Nodding his head towards the screen, Aomine mocked shooting himself in the head, but he moved slowly so that the Peacekeepers didn't detect the movement, Kise silently chuckled and shook his head before turning back to face the front. Momoi was happily mouthing the last of the words on the video, her hands clasped to her chest as she smiled into the crowd.

“Oh, I do love that part, it’s my favourite! It’s such a good video, don't you think?” Receiving no reply other than blank stares didn't seem to throw her off though, quite the opposite really, instead she giggled before continuing. “Anyways, now is time for the part you’ve all been waiting for, the Reaping! As you know, this year, all the names have been placed in one ball, so it's different than usual – but as I like to say: may the odds be ever in your favour!”

As Momoi gradually made her way towards the sizeable glass bowl, Kise’s heart began to thump harder and harder until he was positive he was going to go into cardiac arrest. It was beating with so much force that all he could hear was his pulse in his ears, his stomach felt as though it were twisting itself into tight knots as his anxiety skyrocketed and his whole body began to tremble.

Momoi carefully stirred the folded papers around the bowl.

Never had he not wanted to be chosen more than now. He wasn't stupid, Kise knew for a fact that the Capitol always made sure the Tributes died in the most horrific ways possible in the Quarter Quells.

Painted fingernails caught hold of a piece and drew it out. She unfolded it; taking a breath as she prepared to read the name.

 Kise’s chest felt tight and constricted as his head spun wildly. He hoped that he wasn't chosen. He prayed that Aomine wasn't chosen, he begged that-

“Kise Kiyoko.”

Kise’s eyes snapped open and his blood ran cold, his trembling ceased and for the first time all day, he was completely and totally in control of his body. He saw Kiyoko’s frail form moving through the other girls, who’d moved out of her way to let her through. Kise saw the tears in her eyes, he saw the trembling of her lips and suddenly he’d thrown himself into her.

“No!” He yelled desperately as a Peacekeeper attempted to pry him off his sister, the Peacekeeper's hands were rough and would definitely leave him with bruises. “No! NO! KIYOKO!” He could hear Aomine screaming at him to get back in line, to not go through with it, he could hear the commotion of the other children, he could hear his mother's wails and then, suddenly, he could hear nothing but his own words.

“I VOLUNTEER!” His voice was many octaves higher than usual, it sounded hoarse and raw and so, so desperate as he cried out, “I volunteer as tribute!”

“Ryouta! No!” Kiyoko screamed, “Don’t go!” Her hands reached out for her brother as a largely-built Peacekeeper dragged her away, probably to their mother. Kise drew himself to his full height and turned towards the podium which a shocked Momoi stood behind.

“Ryouta! No! Stop! STOP!” He could hear Aomine beg in a cracking voice he never wished to hear.

“Well,” Momoi watched as Kise was escorted up the steps and was deposited next to her. Tears blurred his vision for the fourth time that day. He clenched his jaw and stood trembling as the tears fell. “It seems this year we have a Volunteer, and the first one from District 12, too!”

Kise had never been happier to not be able to see Aomine’s face. He clenched his fists tightly by his sides and cried silently as Momoi ploughed her petite hand into the names once more. She bit her lip as she pulled it out, then stepped back up to the microphone.

“It seems this year the Tributes will be all male from District 12!”

Kise’s head ached as his mind screamed. PLEASE! NO! NO! NO! DON’T BE HIM! ANYBODY BUT HIM! NO! IT CAN’T BE! THERE ARE SO MANY OTHER NAMES! DAMN IT ALL TO HELL! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NONONONONONONONONONO!

But, of course, for Kise Ryouta – the odds had _never_ been in his favour.

“Aomine Daiki.”


	2. Set the ball rolling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things were going to change from here on, Kise knew this, and yet he still wanted nothing more than to live in ignorance.

There was a time, when they were children, that Aomine decided he was invincible. Kise had told him outright with worried lines carved into his young face and a whining voice with a steely edge not to do it. But of course, that only added fuel to the fire as Aomine took hold of a thick rope, bound tightly to a gnarling tree, and laughed gleefully as he yanked it backwards into his lithe body; backing quickly away from the bank of the icy creek.

It was winter and so, of course, the water was, for the most part, frozen over by a sheet of delicately spindled strings of looping frosty patterns. Kise could tell just by looking at it that the water beneath it was still dark and lurking and wholly predatory, he knew that it wouldn't support his friend’s weight were he to miscalculate his jump and fall in.

“I’ll be fine!” Aomine had reassured him with a lopsided grin and a cocked head, offering a brief thumbs-up gesture before returning both hands around the girth of the rope. Aomine kicked away at some dirt beneath his feet, his clunky boots easily unsettling the stone-like chunks of solid earth; it skidded across the surface of the creek and Aomine took that as a green light.

All Kise remembers from that point onwards is the debilitating rush of panic that rushed over him, filling every crevice of every cell of his body with its quicksilver grasp. He remembers how quickly the determined smirk of confident enthusiasm in his face snapped to complete horror as the rope snapped and he plunged through the icy membrane below. The water had been paralysing and Kise’s lungs had burned for oxygen as he dived in afterwards to save his friend; his heart thumping wildly in his chest. Even when he’d managed to yank Aomine back up to the surface and to safety, the strong waves of panic did not leave his body; he could hear nothing but ringing in his ears, could feel nothing but the tingling sensation in his extremities and the vibrations his heart sent out like shock waves. It was like he was seeing everything and nothing all at the same time. All due to the overwhelming aspect of losing Aomine.

That is how he feels now. If he is feeling anything at all, that is. There has to be some kind of mistake. There has to be. It can’t have been Aomine’s name that was called. No. NO.

“Come, come, there’s nothing to be frightened of!” Kise heard Momoi’s sickeningly sweet voice encourage Aomine.

Tears burned in his eyes as he desperately searched the crowd for someone, anyone that would volunteer in his place. The crowd remained solemn, only serving to punctuate the wails of their respective mothers and Kiyoko. Kise wants to scream at the other children, plead them to just spare Aomine’s life, please but he can't. And it has nothing to do with the fact that it feels as though his air passages have closed up. It’s more that he knows it is not their faults. This is the fault of the Capitol and so the Capitol must pay.

Aomine looks as though he can't believe what's happening. His face perfectly captures all the shock and disbelief Kise is failing to show, although his dark eyes are red rimmed and watering and his mouth parted as though he wishes to gasp but cannot even gather the energy to do that. The Peacekeeper escorting Aomine up to the elevated stage almost seems surprised at the lack of reaction. However Kise notices his friend's legs tremble as he ascends the few steps to the platform, how shallow and uneven his breathing has become – almost as though he isn't breathing at all – and then, once he's situated on the other side of Momoi, how hard he gulps. Aomine sluggishly looks down at the wooden panelling of the rickety floor; tears track down his pallid complexion but he either doesn't notice or doesn't care. Then, he brings his gaze up to meet Kise's, and that's when he snaps.

"No," He moaned weakly, bringing a trembling hand up through his hair. Kise wants nothing more than to run over to him, to grab him by the wrist, and escape this place but of course reality would not allow for such an event. Before they know it, the both of them are crying silently, with bottom lips pinched between chattering teeth and chins jittering, neither of them is paying attention to the Mayor's words and neither of them pays attention to Momoi either.

Time passes in a sharp blur, everything much too vivid and real but at the same time subdued and dream-like, before long Kise and Aomine are whisked off the stage and through a large set of double doors. Kise barely struggles against the tide, he lets it wash him away in the form of gloved hands and padded white armour and helmets, rough words and cold demeanours, he almost felt guilty that he hadn't fought the Peacekeepers to get to Aomine. But it didn't matter – as he quickly glanced over his shoulder to catch one last glimpse of his friend before the doors slammed closed to his own holding room Kise notices that Aomine is not struggling either.

The inside of the room would seem cosy if it weren't for the circumstances. A fire crackled in its hearth on the left side of the room and plush chairs were set up neatly around a large wooden desk. To Kise, this was what he wouldn't have considered living in luxury; it was then that it clicked in his sluggish mind where he was. The Justice Building. He really had volunteered as tribute. Aomine really was going into the Arena with him. They were both going to die. He supposed that there was no way two emaciated teenage boys could win against the strength of the tributes from the higher-up districts, the ones where the tributes had been prepared since birth to one day volunteer to be thrown into the Games. Kise’s stomach flipped at the thought of the idea and, for a moment, he swore he was going to vomit until he heard the sounds of the heavy-set door being opened once again.

His mother and Kiyoko all but stumbled inside; their blood-shot eyes and stick-like limbs complimenting each other. Kise felt a strangled sound leave his throat against his will, his body going into auto-pilot as he moved quickly towards the two of them, his arms outstretched and awaiting a hug. Kiyoko was the first to reach him, despite being sickly and deathly ill, she managed to propel herself with enough vigour to send the both of them down onto the sofa behind them. It was soft and velvety and welcoming. All things that the event to come was not. Kise found it somewhat misleading.

"Ryouta . . ." He heard his mother's crackling voice cry quietly. Kise raised his head from where it was buried in his sister's tangled blonde hair at her neck and locked eyes with his mother. She looked as though she had lost everything. In a way, he supposed it was true.

"Ryouta," Kiyoko mumbled. Her voice was warm against the bare skin of his neck; he felt her body vibrate as she spoke. What he wasn't expecting, however, was the slap that followed. "How could you do that?!" She cried out.

In shock, Kise raised a hand and held it gingerly to his stinging cheek. "W-what . . .?" He looked back at her.

"Why?! Why would you do that?! My life is almost over but you still have yours to live!" Kiyoko yelled. Their mother's sobs started up again at those words.

"I had to! I couldn't let you be killed like that!" Kise fired back, his honey eyes burning with his desire to protect his older sister. Kiyoko pursed her lips, her eyes once more brimming with tears. Kise felt the sofa dip down next to him and looked to see that their mother had joined them. She placed a small hand on Kiyoko's bony shoulder and gently attempted to pry her off her brother.

"Come on now, Kiyoko, we don't have that much time to say goodbye,"

Kiyoko sniffled, "I don't want to have to say goodbye,"

"Please don't be like this." Kise whispered. He slid out from under Kiyoko and stood before his mother and sister. "Just pretend like I'm going out for the day with Aomine,"

"But this is different," Kiyoko's voice strained, "you might not ever come back. And even if you do, I might not even be here to see you!"

"You're right." Kise agreed, "I won’t come back. That's why you have to get better and live for me, Kiyoko. I volunteered in your place, so please; you have to get better and live!"

"Then promise me that you'll win!"

A Peacekeeper stuck their head inside the door and informed them that their time was up, then proceeding to stride inside and make to escort the two of them out of the room.

Kiyoko repeated her order, "Ryouta, promise me that you'll win!"

Kise shook his head slowly, his eyes burning alongside his constricting throat. "I love you both, mom, Kiyoko,"

"Ryouta, please!" His mother begged, struggling against the strong grip of the Peacekeeper as she was easily dragged from the room.

"No!" Kiyoko screamed out, "No! Ryouta! Please! We need more time! Ryouta I-"

The doors slammed shut and he fell to his knees in a crumpling heap. He wouldn't ever see them again. It would have been too cruel of him to promise them that he'd try to win when he had no intention of doing so. There could be only one victor and Aomine was going into the Arena with him, and Aomine was going to leave the Arena without him.

The journey to the train station from the Justice Building didn't take that long at all; it was almost as though the building had been strategically placed to ensure the speedy arrival of the District 12 tributes to their next destination. He'd never been in a car before, and so the experience was new to him and he found himself feeling a little nauseous. Although that could be chalked up to the fact he was journeying to his place of death. Another thing that is new to him, and what unsettles his stomach even more, is the hordes of photographers and reporters that have suddenly taken utmost interest in him. Kise mentally compares them to locusts, the way they swarm him and his beaten-down composure, take all the images they can, and then withdraw back to normalcy once he's boarded the train.

It's here that he's reunited with Aomine once again. The other boy looks no better off than he is. The both of them are tired and puffy-eyed. Kise supposed things were even harder on Aomine and his mother considering that they are all each other had left. Both of their families were small, so they'd joined them together, unofficially, as they had often been at one another's houses when they were children. Aomine was like family to him. Aomine's mother was like the aunt he never had. Which was why it hurt even more to know how broken their families were going to be at the end of this ordeal. The best outcome possible is that one of them manages to make it home. And by 'one of them' Kise was referring to Aomine – he had no intention of making it back alive. Kise's only purpose at these Games was to protect Aomine and nothing more. He just hoped that Aomine's thoughts weren't following a similar trail.

"K-Kise . . ." Aomine breathed out, looking to his friend. Kise thought he was going to break down into tears again, but he managed to control himself.

"Aominecchi," Kise took a step towards him, "I'm so sorry . . ."

Aomine raked a hand through his hair – a nervous habit he seems to have picked up lately. Kise went to take another step towards him but was cut off by someone sauntering out through one of the open doors between them in the corridor of the train. His hair was mussed up and his eyes were slightly glazed over. He seemed to be in a drunken state – which was only made even more apparent when he opened his mouth to speak.

"Oh, am I ru-nin' a reunion?" He slurred, teetering on his feet slightly. The man stumbled backwards slightly before catching himself and waving his hand in front of his face, Kise supposed he was waving their help off despite neither of them having made a move to aid him.

"Who are you?" Aomine asked, his thin eyebrows scrunched together as he tried to piece everything together. The drunken man shuffled up into Aomine's face, seeming to make a point to breech the elements of personal space, and stared up at him. The man smirked and leaned his head even further forwards as he spoke:

"Your mentor,"

Aomine almost did a double-take, "Hah-?!" He cried.

"Aida Kagetora, at your service!" Aida performed a clumsy bow before straightening himself back up and placing a heavy hand on Aomine's shoulder, "I'll be goin' now, 'm outta booze. See ya 'round,"

Kise watched as their supposed mentor, Aida, stumbled into a wall, cursing under his breath at it, all whilst mumbling how he meant to do it. Suddenly, Kise felt as if he and Aomine were alone to mentor themselves.

***

Soon after the meeting, and once the two teenagers had had a chance to complain about Aida's drunken state, they were both summoned by Momoi to eat dinner. She'd tottered towards them in her ridiculous clothing and led them through the narrow, rocking corridor into a rather esteemed-looking dinning area with polished panelled walls. A large table was centred in the room, wholly dominating it with its array of delicate plates and cutlery. Kise wondered how easily breakable they all were. Probably very.

Momoi hummed as she sat down, "have you had the joys of meeting Kage-chan yet?" She asked with a small smile; almost sly. Aomine and Kise look to each other, both appearing equally as dissatisfied with him.

"I shall accept that as a yes," Momoi giggled behind her hand. Annoying, Kise thought to himself.

"Couldn't you have found someone who was less . . . less . . ." Aomine trailed off and did some vague gestures, Kise jumped in when Momoi's face morphed into confusion.

"Drunk?"

"Well," Momoi folded her small, gloved, hands upon the table in front of her, "you see, there has never been anyone else from District 12 that has actually won the Hunger Games. So Kage-chan is all you're going to get,"

Aomine and Kise sighed simultaneously before a cold silence fell upon them. The silence could not even be heated by the warmth of the glorious food that was soon presented to them. Kise had looked at the food as though it was too good to be true – which it, in a way, was. His stomach churned in both protest and hunger at the thought of eating the food, as despite his gnawing hunger, he could not help but feel as though he were a pig for slaughter. That the Capitol was just providing this surplus of food to bulk him up and make it seem, to the audience watching that the members of the District were well-fed and cared for. To make the Capitol look better than it was. However, the only pigs here were the Capitol themselves, Kise resolved.

Momoi cleared her throat, Kise raised his head to look at her and saw that she was gesturing towards the large bowl of thick, steamy soup in front of him on the table. “Eat up,” she chirped, “you’re going to need your strength!”

Aomine, who was seated next to Momoi, across the table from Kise, dubiously took one of the delicate-looking spoons into his hand and pursed his lips as he looked down at his own bowl. Kise almost laughed at how ridiculous the spoon looked in his oversized hands. Aomine looked to Momoi, who nodded in approval, before dunking it gracelessly into the orange-ish soup. Raising his blond eyebrows, Kise looked to his friend. Aomine hummed deeply;

“Carrot,” he said.

“Carrot?” Kise questioned, cocking his head to the side.

“Carrot. Definitely carrot.” Aomine repeated, “it’s really damn good, try some Kise, do it,”

Kise gave a small huff at being told what to do before taking his own spoon and sipping at the soup that collected in it. Aomine was right. This stuff was heavenly!

Momoi clapped her hands together, watching happily as the two boys ravenously devoured their soup. She’d supposed that they’d slow down their speed as they got used to the taste, but they didn’t. They kept stuffing themselves with the soup, and the bread in the middle of the table in a petite basket. Her eyebrow twitched in annoyance, alongside the corner of her mouth when a small splash of soup flicked from Aomine’s bowl and to her arm. Suddenly, she stormed around the table and none-too-gently hit the two of them upside the head.

“Will you slow down?!” She yelled, “you’re both eating like pigs! You’ll make yourselves sick! Do you know no manners?!”

Kise almost choked on a mouthful of bread he’d been chewing. He swallowed it down quickly and scowled at Momoi. “Mean!” He crossed his arms over his chest, “you didn’t have to hit us! Tell her Aominecchi!”

Aomine didn’t reply. He’d gone pale and seemed to be staring into nothing.

“Aominecchi?” Kise tried again. Then, Aomine slapped a hand over his mouth, leaping up from the table and running out of the room. Both Kise and Momoi winced at the sound of retching coming from the bathroom down the hall.

Sighing, Momoi shook her head, going back to her own meal, “Didn’t I tell you?”

He was about to take another mouthful of soup when Kise decided to retire to his room, Momoi had shown it to him earlier and Kise had an uncanny ability to remember things others had showed him, so he knew that he’d have little problems in finding his way there.

“Aren’t you going to wait for the main course?” The pinkette asked as Kise rose from his chair. He shook his head, pushing his dish away from him and to the centre of the table.

“I’m not hungry anymore,” He said quietly. He heard the sound of a glass being set back down against the table before Momoi began to speak again.

“You know . . .” She began, “As much as I believe it’s going to make this year’s Games really interesting . . . I still am sorry that you have to go into the Arena with your best friend. I’ve researched the two of you, I know briefly of your pasts, and I just wish that there was another way around it all. But there isn’t, and only one can make it out alive, so if I were you . . . I think you should both sever your bonds.”

Normally, if someone had said something so horrible such as that, Kise would have wasted no time in laying into them, yelling and perhaps throwing an adrenaline-powered punch or two if that’s what it lead to. However this time, he didn’t even make eye contact, but the aura he projected was enough to tell Momoi not to say anything more, and his piercing glare did not have to be seen for one to know that it was there.

Not saying another word, he walked out of the dining area and straight to his own personal room. He did not need pity from the Capitol. He did not need their sympathy or their twisted advice. He already had a plan, and he already knew that he’d follow it through with every breath he had left.

***

His room, Kise finds, is even more luxurious than the one they had him wait in in the Justice Building. Not having had a chance to get a proper look at it before, he was amazed at it – how they managed to create a space that looked so elegant and modern and rich inside the limited space of the train was beyond him. Kise made his way over to the large bed in the middle of the room and sat down upon it. He stroked the silky grey covers with his right hand before bouncing twice on it slightly to test it. It felt like the most comfortable thing he’d ever set his body down on; that feeling only intensified when he lay backwards and his head were cushioned by the duvet. His bed at home was nowhere near this comfortable. At home his bed was nothing more than a wooden frame wrapped in blankets and a lumpy cushion.

Sitting back upright, Kise made a move to inspect everything else. He looked down at the carpet and removed his boots and socks, marginally surprised at himself for not having done so earlier anyways, and flexed his toes into the soft flooring. The warmth somewhat comforted him. Standing up, he then made his way over to the drawers, finding them filled with clothing, then moving on to his private bathroom (where he discovered the luxury of both instant hot and cold water) and finally his dressing area.

Once having searched every square inch of his room, he pulled off his shirt and trousers and grabbed a thick towel off a nearby rack on his way to the bathroom with the intent of relaxing in a hot shower. Kise was about to pull his underwear off too when he heard a knock at his door. His heart lurched in his throat for a moment, quickly looking down at himself and noticing he was indecent, he silently flailed for a few moments before whoever it was knocked again although this time with a voice to accompany it.

“Oi, Kise?” Aomine. Thank God. Kise all but sagged in relief as the door swung open and his friend was revealed. Firstly, Aomine’s face registered shock and an inkling of embarrassment. However, he quickly recovered and looked the blond up and down, huffing. “Idiot. What are you doing parading 'round wearing nothing but underwear? Cover yourself up before my eyes bleed,”

“Humph,” Kise turned his face away childishly, sticking his nose up in the air but making no attempt to cover himself, “I see someone’s feeling better!” He mumbled playfully.

“Yeah, I guess my stomach’s not used to pigging out on that kinda food, or that much in one go to be honest . . .” Aomine rubbed at the back of his neck with a sheepish smile on his face. “Anyways, you never answered my question, moron,”

“What?”

“Why are you naked?”

“I’m not naked!” Kise protested, putting his hands on his hips, “well, maybe just a little, but I was going to take a shower when you turned up unannounced,”

Aomine hummed, scanning the room and making his way over to Kise’s bed. “Go take a shower then, but I’m staying in here,”

“What? Why?”

“Because I can. Is that a problem? Now go take a shower, you stink.”

Sighing, Kise turned around, throwing his towel over his shoulder as he walked into his bathroom. Just as he was about to close the door, he heard Aomine’s deep voice again, “and no singing! You suck at singing!”

Kise popped his head back out of the door, sticking his tongue out just for good measure. He heard his friend chuckle as he closed the bathroom door and turned on the shower.

The shower was, for lack of better words, heavenly. He’d never actually had one before; he’d had baths, sure, but never showers. And he only ever even had hot water when it had been heated beforehand by his mother, and that was something that took a while to do and therefore rarely happened. Kise noticed an array of bottles lined up against the purl-white tiled wall of the shower. They were quite large and so he couldn’t help but wonder how much of them he’d need to use. He’d never had much of a reason to care about his image before, living in a poor mining District and all, but Kise had almost always attempted to look as neat and tidy as he could. Perhaps, just for a little while, he’d be able to give in to his inner desires and groom himself properly for a while.

Thinking this, he read through the labels of the bottles and ordered them into groups; shampoo, conditioner, and other soaps and gels. He first washed his hair with fruity-smelling shampoo, following it up with conditioner. He then looked through the different body-washes until he found a nice vanilla-smelling one. After rinsing himself off, he stood there, unmoving, allowing the hot water to run over him. He imagined it washing away his worry and his stress. Of course that could never really happen, but he at least wanted a clear mind to be able to think things through.

Finally turning the shower off, Kise pushed the sliding glass door aside and wrapped a towel around himself. He caught sight of his reflection in the mirror and ignored the sudden pang of unidentifiable emotion he felt as his earing reflected in the light. He quickly looked away and exited the bathroom.

As he stepped outside, Kise saw Aomine lying back on his bed similar to how he’d been positioned when he’d left to take a shower. Had he not moved at all? Aomine seemed to perk back up as he wandered over to his drawer to get some clean clothes. Looking for something simple, Kise pulled out a loose-fitting, long-sleeved white top, some clean underwear, and a pair of light grey jogging bottoms. Taking note of the tones of his clothing, and then of the other monochrome variations of his room and the areas in it, he couldn’t help but feel as though the literal colour had been taken out of his life. The only colour now was Aomine, who stood brightly out from the grey-scale with his blue hair and eyes. It was as though the world was reminding him of where his priorities lay.

Kise was halfway through getting changed, not even bothering to go behind the changing screens set up in the corner of his room, when Aomine spoke up.

“Comfy aren’t they?”

Kise was confused, “what?”

“The beds,” he elaborated, sitting up and resting back on his hands, “they’re really comfy,”

“Oh,” Kise breathed, “yeah, I’ve never felt anything like them.” He turned to face his friend once he was dressed and sat down next to him, leaving a comfortable space between them.

Aomine sniffed, "you smell weird," he leaned closer to the blond and pressed his nose gently to his damp hair, "it's nice,"

"Hey! Don't smell me you idiot!" Kise lightly hit Aomine's shoulder, said teen held both hands up in mock surrender before pushing his face into the crook of Kise's neck and taking an exaggeratedly deep breath. Kise gasped, his cheeks flushing slightly as he pushed the taller boy off him, laughing as he did so. The two of them found themselves on their backs, laying next to each other; a silence fell over them once the brief laughter had faded. When it was broken, Kise could tell that the mood had changed.

“We have to watch the other Reapings and see who we’re against with Momoi and Aida, tomorrow,” Aomine sighed.

“Momoi said it was all boys this year,” Kise added.

Aomine clicked his tongue, “it’s going to be brutal, I can feel it,”

With a huff of breath, Kise replied, “what gave you that idea?” Referring to how the two of them would have to go into the Arena. Aomine chose not to reply for another while.

“. . . Everything’s going to change now . . . Isn’t it?” He whispered.

Kise turned his head to look at Aomine, rolling onto his side. “Yeah,” He figured he’d enjoy the sight of his friend untainted whilst he could. “But, just for now, let’s pretend it’s not,”

Aomine clumsily manoeuvred a boneless hand over to Kise's head, allowing it to ruffle his hair as he watched him, “they say ignorance is bliss,” he began, “but if you close your eyes now, its just gonna make it harder when you open them,"

Kise didn’t know what to say to that. So he didn’t. He remained silent, and, surprisingly, so did Aomine.


	3. Mentoring troubles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The enemy was terrifying and made Kise and Aomine doubt they even had a chance, it would help if their mentor was a little better at his job.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the positive response to the story! :)

When Kise woke up the next morning, he was alone. If he’s remembering correctly, he was sure that when he eventually fell asleep, Aomine was lying next to him as the two of them settled comfortably into sleep, each lulled by the other’s presence. However, Kise doesn’t remember actually ever getting under the covers of his overly-luxurious bed and so he resolves that Aomine must have just been waiting for him to go to sleep before making sure he was properly contented and then residing to his own room. Kise exhaled a short breath of air through his nose. _And he tells me he doesn’t care_ he thinks with a shake of his head and an uneven grin; _yeah, right._

Neither of them mention anything over breakfast, simply greeting each other as usual then proceeding to gorge themselves on an odd assortment of toast, bacon, rice, and miso soup – both avoided the natto completely. Kise was aware that his choice in food was rather odd but he knew that he needed to eat as much as possible; he was going to need all the strength he could possibly muster, as well as the fact that he’d probably never get to try half of these foods again. For these reasons, he subconsciously pushed the murky guilt he got from scoffing so much when his family was starving back home to the far recesses of his mind.

He was so absorbed in eating that he almost didn’t notice when Aida sauntered into the dining area. The only warning that the obviously hung-over man was entering was the electronic clicking sound of the door’s locking mechanism, followed by the smooth ‘whoosh’ sound that followed its opening. Kise heard a quiet growl and looked across the table to see Aomine scowling unapologetically at their mentor. Aida, however, seemed unperturbed about this and continued his way over to the table. He smirked slightly when he saw Aomine’s face, as though comforted by the fact that someone borderline hated him after a single meeting, before clapping his hands together loudly – and then swearing when the harsh noise unsettled his alcohol-induced headache.

“To what do we owe the pleasure of your appearance, Kage-chan?” Momoi asked, dabbing at her mouth with a napkin before turning around in her chair to face Aida.

Aida sighed, bringing his hands back down from where they’d begun rubbing his temples and instead bracing them at the head of the table. He didn’t sit down. “What?” He chuckled shortly, “am I not allowed to be here? Last time I checked it was my job!”

Momoi sighed, shaking her head, “you know what I mean! You usually stay in your room throughout breakfast! I don’t think I’ve seen you this early since the first tributes we had!”

“Okay, first,” Aida held up a finger, “that is an exaggeration, I’ll have you know I’ve came down for breakfast in the past whilst you were still snoozing your pretty little head off. And second, this year’s tributes have piqued my interest. It’s not every year you get both a volunteer from 12 _and_ childhood friends,”

Aomine suddenly slammed his fists against the table, making all but Aida flinch, “we aren’t some- some _toys_ to be played around with!” He yelled, “it’s bad enough that we’re nothing but pieces in this twisted game but we do _not_ need to be talked about like we’re trivial!” He made a move to storm out of the room but was quickly stopped by Aida, who stood in front of the doorway with his arms spread.

“Now, now, big guy, not so hasty,” he ground out, a false smile spread across his features, “I think you’ll find that you’re jumping to conclusions.”

“Get out of the way.” Aomine seethed. Kise pushed himself away from the table and made himself known by Aomine’s side.

“Aominecchi, calm down,” he whispered soothingly, his words soft but his eyes harsh. He placed a sturdy hand on Aomine’s shoulder. Said teenager huffed, his breathing heavy; he remained still and kept eye contact with Aida.

Said man let his arms collapse back down to his sides when he saw that Aomine was no longer going to attempt to fight him to get out of the door, “Right, okay. Now, if you’d think about what I’m saying I think you’ll find it’s a compliment that I’ve taken interest in you,”

“A compli-!?”

“Aominecchi.”

“Year after year I’ve been watching as the tributes from 12 are slaughtered within the first day, they’re hopeless, and you know what? It isn’t there fault. It’s not their fault that they’re in there and it’s not their fault that they’re unfairly matched. That’s why, if I don’t see any potential for a Victor, I don’t get attached. Otherwise I’d have long gone mad from watching those poor kids get slaughtered. But, this time the circumstances are different. You,” Aida gestures towards Kise, “had the balls to save your sister and volunteer, and the two of you are, as I’ve been told, childhood friends. But above all, I think we finally have a victor this year,”

“And why would that be?” Kise questioned.

Aida looked him straight in the eyes as he replied; “I’ve never seen such burning determination in the eyes of any other tributes from 12. Kise, Aomine, you are both strong. Whether or not you know it yet, with the right training, you’ll both be lethal. Of course, I haven’t seen the other tributes yet so that could all change, but for the time being at least I think you’ve got pretty strong chances.”

Aomine stood silent, processing the information, like he didn’t know whether or not he could trust Aida.

“. . . Why’re you suddenly sucking up to us, Aida?” He then said, narrowing his eyes.

“Hah, such an informal brat, where’s my honorific. . .?” He muttered under his breath, “What do you mean? I don’t get what either of you have against me,”

“It’s because you were drunk when they first met you,” Momoi quipped from where she was still seated at the table, “I think you’ll find that that usually leaves a bad impression.”

“Ah,” He hummed, shrugging, “what can I say? I like booze!”

Kise sighed, “but how were we supposed to know that you’re actually a decent guy if you’re going around getting drunk, it makes us wonder if you even care,”

“Kid, if you were me, and you’d been through what I’d been through, you’d be sucking up that liquor like you sucked milk from a bottle. Now get your asses into the main room, we have to watch the other Reapings to see who you’re up against.”

Giving up on their hostile attitudes, Aomine and Kise followed behind him, Momoi ushering them along from the back.

***

Kise didn’t know what he’d been expecting. Really, he didn’t. But all he knew was that he was expecting _nothing_ like this. Aida had said before that he believed one of them would make it as a Victor, but now anybody who looked would be able to see the doubt in his eyes. No matter how well he tried to cover it up.

As soon as Kise saw the tributes for District 1, his thundering heart plummeted. Both of the tributes were volunteers, one of them looked to be as tall as Aomine, with long hair and a charming smile. He looked completely at ease in a way that made Kise feel as sick as Aomine’s paling face looked. The other was considerably smaller, his face didn’t give away much but his eyes were piercing enough to affect him from where he was currently safe behind a television screen. Mibuchi Reo and Akashi Seijuuro. Kise make sure to commit their names to memory.

District 2 made his heart plummet even more. 2 was a particularly wealthy district and focused primarily on masonry, so it shouldn’t have been a surprise when two well-built young men volunteered themselves, sauntering threateningly up to the podium with sly grins. Kise didn’t even want to _imagine_ what they were both capable of once they were permitted to kill. Haizaki Shougo and Hanimaya Makoto.

District 3’s a poorer district with a strong focus on technology; it was almost comical that someone who appeared particularly intelligent in that field was selected. However looks could be deceiving, and Kise didn’t want to find himself looking past the green-haired boy’s impressive height, (however it was hard to do this when Aomine has making such harsh comments regarding his glasses-clad appearance). The other boy that was selected alongside him was much shorter and tried to make himself look strong, despite the tears that were falling down his face, as he held his head high and made his way to the podium. Kise supposed that it was for the sake of his family, if the agonised screaming of a woman and her three young children, that all looked rather alike, was anything to go by. Midorima Shintarou and Takao Kazunari.

After that was the fishing district of 4. Here, two rather average-looking teenage boys were volunteered. They were both tall, one of them wearing glasses (which, surprisingly, Aomine decided to make no comments on this time around), and the other appearing somewhat of a gentle-giant with a dark aura swimming behind his kind eyes. Yet, being from a career district, Kise had no choice but to keep his guard up, he was sure that when the time called for it, neither of the two, Kiyoshi Teppei or Hyuuga Junpei, would hesitate to kill.

The next to be chosen were an odd pair. The one of them was tall and cunning, a sly grin across his face as he made his way up to the podium. The other was very much muscled and appeared more brawn than brain – he, however, didn’t even pretend to be happy that he’d been selected as he made his way up with a dark scowl. Imayoshi Shouichi and Wakamatsu Kousuke. District 6 offered two more odd people, Kasamatsu Yukio and Moriyama Yoshitaka. Kise almost felt bad for Kasamatsu as he watched him volunteer in place of someone else, a younger brother perhaps, before remembering that this was the enemy. But that was hard to do when Kasamatsu was crying from the shock just as he had been.

This then led to district 7’s reaping, and this was the point at which everyone in the room drew in a collective breath. Kise was now positive that Aida definitely doubted their chances of winning. Now, Kise and Aomine were both relatively tall, but even they wouldn’t be able to defend themselves from such a _monster._ As the giant boy’s name, Murasakibara Atsushi, had been called out, an older, petite, girl with a fiery burn in her eyes ran out from the crowd and opened her mouth; for a moment Kise was relieved that this girl was going to volunteer in his place. Until he remembered Momoi’s words. The tributes were all male this year. Before the girl could say anything, Murasakibara had sluggishly raised a hand and announced; “I volunteer as tribute” in what must have been the laziest voice he’d ever heard. Only the furrowing of his eyebrows, just visible underneath his scraggly purple hair, gave away how he was truly feeling. The other boy, Himuro Tatsuya, notably composed himself before making a move after hearing his name. He took a deep breath, seemingly washing away all his grief, before his face took on a steely complexion and he strode with confidence up to the podium. Aomine let out a low whistle, and Kise was sure they were both terrified to have to come face-to-face with these people.

Fortunately (despite Kise’s slight guiltiness for thinking it) the next reaping seemed to offer Kise and Aomine at least a slight chance at grasping victory. The two tributes for this district, both of which were volunteers in place of siblings (which really did seem to be a common theme this year considering anyone could volunteer for anyone), and neither appeared to pose that much of a threat. Koganei Shinji and Mitobe Rinnosuke. Nevertheless, Kise was back to high alert with the next tributes. Hayama Kotarou and Nebuya Eikichi both had very imposing presences despite only being from a textiles specialist district. Hayama, without even having to be there in person, was clearly very agile and nimble, and Nebuya had pure, unadulterated strength on his side. The dark-skinned teen had a murderous look to him, and his roping muscles screamed for no-one to dare mess with him. For some reason, Kise found his mind jumping back to Reo, Hanimaya and Kiyoshi as the five of them all seemed to give off some terrible aura of domination. Kise’s stomach squirmed uncomfortably in growing nausea.

But not as much as when he saw the next district and suddenly realised that there were going to be more powerhouse kind of people than there were regular. Kagami Taiga and Kuroko Tetsuya were a peculiar duo, however the both of them seemed rather friendly with each other. Not as close as, say Kise with Aomine, but acquaintances at the very least. Kagami, much like many of the others, was tall, with a cocky smirk like he knew this was coming; like he’d been waiting for it. He’d risen to the challenge almost as well as the career tributes. Kuroko, on the other hand, was much smaller and hard to notice. Kise, along with Aomine and Momoi, couldn’t see the blue-haired boy at first. It wasn’t until Aida pointed him out and told them you needed “constant vigilance” in the Games that they noticed him. Kuroko’s skills would probably be quite useful when it boiled down to life and death. You couldn’t kill what you couldn’t see.

Finally, district 11’s reaping was shown, and similar to 8’s tributes, these people didn’t seem to pose much of a threat either. Furihata Kouki was the first to be called; it was impossible to miss the trembling of his body and the tears streaming down his face. The other boy was Izuki Shun, who pursed his lips and scrunched his eyebrows upon hearing his name, but didn’t seem to be that much of a threat compared with the others. Then it was, lastly, district 12’s reaping. Kise had lived it; he didn’t want to be watching it again. However he found a morbid fascination in how desperate and raw his voice had been when he yelled to volunteer. It was almost embarrassing when he realised that he was the least composed out of any of the other tributes – he didn’t quite cry as much as Furihata did though. After his name had been called, the camera panned back around to show the audience, and Kise, for the first time, saw just how distraught Aomine had been. He face was twisted into an unreadable emotion and at the point at which his own name was called, it shattered. Agony and loss and fear and prayer for this all to be a dream was crystal clear. Kise turned his eyes away from the screen at that point. It hurt him too much to see his friend in that state.

***

Later on, when they’d all at least marginally recovered from their panicked states of shock upon seeing who they’d be up against, Aida decided that it was due time he gave them some actual survival tips. Kise and Aomine were comfortably seated next to each other on a large sofa, it was warm and inviting; made even more so by Aomine’s furnace-like body. Momoi was sitting in a rounded armchair opposite them, behind a tiny coffee table with glasses of water, tea, and a glass of red wine upon it, and next to Aida – whom was seated in a separate armchair to the right of Momoi.

Aida took his glass of wine and swigged it around a couple of times, ignoring Momoi’s protests when the dark liquid nearly splashed up and out and over the chair’s upholstery. “Right,” he said, sipping his drink, “where do we start?”

Aomine huffed, “by telling us how to survive?”

“Hey now, that’s a very complicated thing to talk about. There’s so many ways you could die; starvation, dehydration, stab wounds, burns, bullet wound, acid rain-”

“Okay so actually tell us what to do about them! It’s no good just listing off things we already know are gonna be a problem!” Kise leaned forwards in his seat. He thought that he and Aomine had finally made it on to good terms with the man, however now he was, again, doubting that.

“Jeeze, you really are a pushy pair!” Aida complained half-heartedly, taking another drink from the glass. “Fine, I’ll tell you all I got to tell you,”

Kise didn’t miss the near silent mutter of “finally” from Aomine. Thankfully he didn’t think Aida noticed – the man was apparently too deep in concentration.

“Don’t die.” Is all they got. Kise growled indignantly as their mentor smirked. He opened his mouth to protest but, as per usual, Aomine beat him to it.

“Look you old bastard,” (Momoi reprimanded him with a quick “ _language, Aomine!_ ”) “I thought we established that Kise or I actually have a shot at winning this thing! Why won’t you just tell us what to do?!” 

“Well what’re you expecting me to say?!” Aida snapped, leaning forwards, “The arena is unpredictable and there’s no way of telling what will happen! It’s bad enough that your fate isn’t even in your own hands! You know, whether you live or die isn’t even something you can control yourself when you’re in the arena – it’s all up to the people in the capitol!”

“See! Now we’re getting somewhere!” Kise threw his hands up in exasperation. Aida growled in frustration, knocking back the remainder of his alcohol before slamming the glass down harshly. Momoi winced.

“Sponsors.”

“Sponsors?” Aomine and Kise questioned simultaneously.

“Sponsors.” Aida confirmed. “You gotta suck up to the people of the Capitol; gotta get ‘em to love you, adore you even. If people like you, they’ll bet on you winning and send you parachutes. They’ll send you anything that you need that’s within a reasonable budget for them. When I was in the arena; I witnessed a girl die from dehydration right in front of me whilst a selfish boy she was travelling with was given enough of the stuff to last him days. It’s harsh. . . It really is.”

“So. . .” Aomine began, “how exactly do we get people to like us…?”

Aida hummed, “Ah, now don’t yell at me, but that’s something I can’t really answer,”

Kise swallowed past the burning irritation and replied calmly and interestedly, “how did _you_ get people to like you? I mean, you won the games once, so you must have gotten people to sponsor you,”

“Apparently, I was charming back in the day,” Aida smirked, leaning backwards. “I didn’t really try, ‘cause, like you, I didn’t really see the point. I thought that the games were stupid, that I wouldn’t win so there was no point in even trying. But hey! Look at me now! I guess sometimes things just happen as they happen and that’s the point I’ve been trying to get across to you for the past couple of days but the two of you keep biting my head off every time I try. Like, I know that I’m not exactly good with words, but give a man a chance would’ya?”

Aomine cocked his head to the side slightly and scrunched his eyebrows, deep in thought, “Okay, so what you’re saying here is. . . That you can’t tell us what to do because. . .” He trailed off again before it suddenly clicked in his mind. “You can’t tell us because everything will play out as it’s supposed to? So, rather than telling us what to do, or giving us false hope, you just have to let things play out as they’re supposed to?”

Making a fist and hitting it gently against the open palm of his hand, Kise sat straight up and gave an “ah” of understanding. “Basically, we just have to be ourselves, make our own decisions, but just follow the guidelines you set?”

Jerking his hand in Kise’s direction, Aida smiled, “You got it! I can only give you guidelines; the rest is up to you. I’ll help you when and where I can but other than that you’re on your own. Besides, I’m not really that great at this whole mentoring business. I consider myself more of a personal coach or trainer.”

“What do you mean?” Kise asked.

“Well, think of it this way,” Aida hummed, “it’s you and Aomine that are going into the arena. It’s you two that all of this will affect. Therefore, I’ll train you up a little, and I’ll make sure you know if you’re about to make a decision that’s so bad even I can clearly see the consequences, but other than that you’re on your own. I know as much as you do regarding what the arena’s gonna be like.”

Aomine seemed to be reviewing the words in his head for a few moments, testing them, checking their validity. Then, he spoke up, “you’ve literally just summed up what a mentor is supposed to do. What the hell’s the difference?”

“But ‘mentor’ sounds way too mature and adult!” Aida whined.

“You’re thirty-eight years old.” Momoi deadpanned, reaching over and slapping him upside the head with a petite gloved hand.

“Hey, what was that for?!” Aida cried in protest, rubbing at the offended area with a scowl.

Momoi ignored him and instead turned to talk to the tributes. “Considering Kage-chan isn’t being much help, I’ll give you both some advice. I don’t know if you’ve noticed but we’ve reached the Capitol; you can make a start by waving to your new fans!” She gestured towards the window, before shepherding both, seemingly dumbfounded, boys out of their seats and towards the long, oblong window to their left.

Kise was sceptical at first, but within seconds that exterior melted away as he found boyish charm he didn’t know he possessed and waved out at all the people who’d gathered to see them at the train station. Instantly, he captured the hearts, and eyes, of many of the Capitol residents watching him as they all waved back ecstatically. Or at least he thought he had. He didn’t know – did the Capitol greet all the tributes with such enthusiasm? Either way the positive attention was rather thrilling.

Looking behind him, he noticed that Aomine was still hanging back, his hand partially raised as though he were considering greeting these people too.

“Hey, Aominecchi, c’mere and wave!” Kise coaxed.

“Uh,” Aomine stuttered dumbly.

“Hah, I’m winning, look at all these people so happy to see my face! I’m gonna have way more followers than you and your grumpy face!” He tried a new approach; Kise knew that these words would trigger movement.

“Tch, what are you even talking about, idiot?” Aomine strode forwards, pulling on a lopsided grin that made Kise’s stomach churn slightly and waving out the window. The crowd, if possible, went even wilder. “See? They love me! There’s no way that you’ll possibly beat me!”

Kise smiled as he looked back at Aomine, not daring to break his charm. With all the camera flashes, he didn’t want to risk having a photo taken of him where he appears negative – even if it’s only mock for the sake of arguing playfully with Aomine.

“There is too! I’m so much cooler than you! Watch me beat you!”

“No you can’t! The only one who can beat me is me!” Aomine laughed.

“Look at you, mister confident! You bringing out the line you used when we were seven and you beat like two people at a game of conkers, how awesome!” Kise replied sarcastically, his voice wavering as he tried to hold back his own laughter.

“What?!” Aomine almost yelled, “‘A few’?! I’ll have you know I beat the whole class! You included!”

“Did not!” Kise protested.

“Did too!”

“You did not!”

“I so did, I think your memories clouded!”

Kise huffed, “You’re such an idiot!”

“Idiot?!” Aomine jabbed Kise in the side with the arm that wasn’t waving. “Ohoho, when we get off this train and to wherever the hell we’re staying, you’re going down, pretty boy!”

Aida and Momoi watched the exchange somewhat fondly as the two of them bickered, making sure to peel them from the windows and away from their new-found fans as they exited the train. Aida had half a mind to restrain the two of them as they continued their bickering and sneaky jabs and pinches to each other’s sides, but Momoi had stopped him with a whispered “Kage-chan, let them be, they need all the normalcy they can get for now.” So he left them to it. And he never planned on telling them this, but he’d found himself fond of his tributes, able to stay themselves in this situation. That took guts and courage and a whole lot of control.

They were intense, he’d give them that, but whether these qualities would be their demise or their saviour he had yet to figure out.

 


	4. The night keeps falling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time stops for no-one and emotions are complicated. Kise comes to a revelation and starts training.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING; there's mention of a panic attack in this chapter

“Do you have to be so violent?!” Kise cried out in pain as the strange Capitol people yanked out more of his eyebrow hair. His demand was met with silence, which only annoyed him even more, and the stylists continued on with their jobs. They’d already trimmed, waxed, and plucked at just about every hair they could find and yet he still hadn’t been deemed attractive enough to leave this room of eternal ‘styling’.

Kise caught sight of a smirk on one of the stylist’s face as they bought over a shower head and hosed him down once again, scrubbing him raw. To begin with, he’d been torn between being thankful that he was, for what must have been the first time in his life, being cleaned thoroughly, that he was soon to be looking better than he ever had before; now, however, he sang to a different tone. His body was burning. The only thought that was keeping his scowl from progressing into further shouts of protest, was the amusing thought that Aomine was also going through this rough treatment right now, in a different room—laying naked on a table as a team of borderline-frightening people worked at taking his scruffy, unkempt self to something that could possibly maybe resemble something handsome.

Flushing at the thought, Kise shifted slightly on the table, receiving a light slap from one of the people working on him. They’re gonna need some kind of deity on their side to make Aomine, of all people, anything anywhere near handsome, Kise scoffed in his head, as though it would cancel out his uncalled-for reaction a few seconds prior.

Suddenly, Kise realises that he didn’t feel anything else touch him after that slap. Were they finally finished? As if answering his mental question to himself, he heard one of the stylists speak;

“Okay, I think we’ve got him looking human now!”

It was a male voice, and at his exclamation, Kise heard the laughter of two others; girls.

The man spoke up again; Kise tilted his head slightly and saw him clasp his hands together, leaning forwards at the waist towards the women as he did so, “let’s call in Shuuzou!”

The stylists hurriedly left, presumably to fetch this ‘Shuuzou’ person. Kise wondered if this was their head stylist. They probably were. Kise needed to be checked over to make sure these people had done a good job of him—Kise felt much like an object for admiration and improvement, rather than a human being. Before long, the room was filled with an excited buzz again as the stylists returned; coaxing Shuuzou into giving them compliments.

Shuuzou waved them off and they reluctantly but obediently left the room.

Kise was just taken aback by how normal Shuuzou looks. From his experience, people from the Capitol were predominantly a mixture of surgical alterations and layer upon layer of, what he thought was, unsightly make up. He didn’t know how any of them could follow that grotesque ideology of beauty. So with his short black hair, blue-grey eyes and simple clothing (if tight jeans and a leather jacket counted as such), he appeared relatively average as far as Capitol folk go.

“Give me a moment . . .” Shuuzou mumbled, bringing his fist up to his lips in thought as he scaned Kise’s body up and down; scrutinising it. The warmth of embarrassment washed over him as he suddenly felt an air of self-consciousness—before he moved, he reminded himself that he needed people to like him, and for that to happen he needed to obey orders and follow through with simple tasks—such as this one.

Shuuzou motioned for him to sit up, leaning over to grab a neatly-folded robe from a nearby shelf and throwing it to him. Catching it with ease, Kise slid it on and just about managed to hold back a sigh of relief at the comfort it brought him.

“I am Nijimura Shuuzou, your stylist, come with me Kise and we’ll have a chat,” Shuuzou said; his face unreadable. As he was led through the door and into a warm sitting room, Kise realised that he hadn’t seen this particular face before. It wasn’t that Kise watched the Games religiously every year, unlike the many that did, but he was familiar with many of the faces of the stylists that came and went. Most of the time, stylists were constants, people who stuck with particular Districts throughout the years regardless of whether or not it was where they desired to be. Kise couldn’t remember ever having seen Shuuzou’s face, so, naturally, he asked.

“By any chance are you new here?”

Shuuzou looked over his shoulder, his eyes travelling upwards from Kise’s feet up to his curious eyes. “Yes.” He replied simply.

Kise probed further as they sat down, “So you’re stuck with District Twelve? The undesirables?”

“Actually,” the stylist sat across from Kise, leaning forwards to fill the space between them a little more, with his forearms resting on his knees; his hands folded. “I asked specifically for District Twelve,”

Then, before Kise had chance to question any further, Shuuzou slid an arm from atop his leg and reached over to push what must have been a button under the low table in the middle of them. Watching in fascination, Kise gaped, unable to help himself, as two metal plates slide back with a quiet schlick and food emerged from the centre; it rose up until it was level with the rest of the table top.

“I bet you think we’re loathsome, don’t you?” Shuuzou asked, taking an onigiri from an ornamented china plate. He motioned for Kise to take one before adjusting his grip on the seaweed and taking a small bite. Kise mimicked; although he wasn’t quite as reserved with his eating habits.

“What d’you mean?” Kise asked; mouth full of rice.

Shuuzou took another bite before speaking and a small smile crossed his face as he nodded to the food on the table. “I mean, look at all of this—food appearing at the touch of a button.”

Kise huffed, “well, of course I think it’s wrong. How can it be anything but loathsome when people in the Districts are starving to death and you only have to press a button to get any food you desire?” He finished chewing his onigiri and reached for another, regardless of the topic of conversation. He supposed that he needed all the strength he could get whilst he could get it. Once Shuuzou finished his snack, he did not take another, instead, he knitted his hands together and resumed the leaned-forwards position from earlier.

“And you have every right to feel that way, Kise,” Shuuzou reassured, “however, I am not despicable unlike others you’ll find here. But this is beside the point. I am here to discuss with you your costume for the opening ceremonies,”

Thinking back, Kise remembered many of the previous costumes that Tributes from District 12 wore. Things like coalminer jumpsuits right the way up to the common extreme of the Tributes being stark naked and covered in coal powder. He fought back a shudder at the thought of having to be void of clothing in front of so many people—it was bad enough not being allowed to wear anything whilst he was repeatedly groomed.

“We’re going to be dressed as coalminers?” Kise deadpanned, not particularly expecting anything other than that.

Shuuzou chuckled. “Actually, no,” he gave a grin that Kise couldn’t help but get good vibes from; he didn’t know whether it was nerves or excitement but there was something pumping around his body not unlike adrenaline. “I have a much greater idea for you and Aomine,”

Kise cocked his head to the side slightly and raised an eyebrow sceptically. “What sort of idea?”

“Well, coal is an icon of District Twelve, so that is something I definitely wanted to stick by—however it is what happens next with the coal that I would particularly like to highlight,”

“You mean. . .” Kise trailed off, not wanting to voice his thoughts in case they were wrong. Yet, from the cunning grin Shuuzou was offering from behind his clasped hands, he got an inkling that he wasn’t.

“You aren’t afraid of fire now, are you?”

* * *

It wasn’t until a few hours later that Kise found himself realising exactly to what extent Shuuzou’s ideas reached. Kise was told as he stood, as the first Tribute in the Remake Centre, that his costume would set alight moments before their chariot rolled out into the street. He hadn’t had much of a chance to admire what he looked like, as even if there’d been a large enough mirror in the room he was dressed in, he wouldn’t have been able to see it over the fussing of his three stylists.

Shuuzou had hung back until he was called to view the final product. So when Aomine strolled into the Centre, dressed from head to toe in tight black clothing and slightly clunky leather boots that travelled knee-high, he suddenly realised how good they looked. The clothing complimented Aomine perfectly, his dark eyes piercing and his sly grin made even brighter. Kise’s thoughts would have travelled further had he not stopped himself upon the realisation that he was more-or-less checking Aomine out. And that was something that crossed the line of friendship. That was a line he dare not cross and though his burning cheeks told otherwise, Kise pretended not to notice.

Aomine held up a hand in greeting and Kise tried not to notice how tired his friend looked now that they were up close. “How goes it?”

“That doesn’t even make sense, Aominecchi,” Kise deadpanned. Aomine’s head suddenly whipped around and Kise was confused until he heard the unmistakable sound of someone childishly mimicking his speech; tarnishing Aomine’s beloved nickname with his taunting mouth. He had tightly braided hair and a snake-like smirk, his whole gesture screaming confidence and self-assuredness; he glared directly into Aomine’s threatening eyes. From what Kise remembered of the Reapings, this was Haizaki Shougou—one of the top in his mentally-compiled list of people he should most look out for.

“Bastard,” Aomine spat out, appearing genuinely riled up. Haizaki seemed pleased with himself. If the stylists weren’t so close by, ushering them into carriages and fixing the last details of their costumes, Kise believed that there would have been much more than a staring match taking place between Aomine and Haizaki. Kise tried to shake off his feelings of unease as he climbed into the sleek black carriage; the impeccable horses drawing it were kept steady as he did so. Aomine followed his lead and then the two of them were ready for action. Kise noticed Aomine’s posture become somewhat straighter, noticed him puffing out his chest slightly and drawing back his shoulders, his head held high.

“What are you doing?” Kise voiced his own thoughts. Turning to look at him, the teenager in question cocked his head to the side so that he could make eye contact with Kise and grinned wolfishly.

“We don’t want to look like bait in front of all our friends here now do we?” Aomine’s voice was a mixture of sarcasm and taunting. He looked as though he were made to do this, like he had every confidence that he was unbeatable.

But Kise wasn’t stupid.

He tried not to look too obviously; Aomine’s hands were trembling and the corner of his grin twitched. Aomine was pale and scared beneath his layers of confident make up.

Before long, the room had dulled to a serious mumble and all the Tributes were lined up in the carriages. Kise couldn’t see that far ahead over the height of some of the Tributes, so he couldn’t quite make out what people were wearing, but he was almost positive that no one was going to be quite so eye-catching as he and Aomine were. Their costume was almost deceptive. It made them look good, yes, but it was also bland and somewhat plain until the flames kick in. Their costume was as much of a dark horse in this ceremony as Shuuzou seemed to believe they were in the Games.

Finally, the opening music began, all loud thrumming drum beats and orchestra sounds, it’s unmistakable, and then the massive doors slowly slide open. The streets are lined with cheering people; each dressed as oddly as the previous as all their eyes become sewn to the Tributes. Each of the Tributes then made their ways towards and through the doors, one by one—which was when Kise finally got a good look at the other clothes. Akashi Seijuuro from District 1 seemed somewhat regal. He wore a glittering tunic adorned with tasteful jewels; his sharp eyes calculating as he drew his chin upwards and gave a face of confidence. Kise suppressed a shudder at the aura of power and control that oozed from him; even from this distance.

District 2 then followed on; Haizaki and Hanimaya, then District 3; Midorima and Takao, then District 4, 5,6 and so on until it finally reached Furihata and Izuki; District 11. Then, at last, it was Kise and Aomine’s turn to become prey to the Capitol’s eyes.

Kise took in a deep breath. He held it for a few seconds before letting it all out in a quick gush of air from his mouth. Bracing his hands on the handle of the carriage, Kise closed his eyes as he was pulled forwards. He only opened them when he felt a warm pressure against his right one. Kise startled slightly and looked down to see that Aomine had braced his own hand atop Kise’s—the warmth calmed his nerves.

Squinting as they were drawn into the bright light of outdoors, Kise was taken aback as everything came into focus. Had he not been preparing himself previously, and had Aomine’s presence not been grounding him, Kise was sure he would have suffered from a sensory overload. He glanced around him at the people lining the street and found himself smiling in spite of the circumstances. Understandably, he was confused when, all of a sudden, they were screaming ecstatically; it didn’t take him long to find out why.

They were on fire. Literally. And it was striking; the perfect mix of beauty, danger and everything in between.

Kise caught sight of himself in one of the screens above him and couldn’t deny the compliments the flames paid his eyes. He felt a surge of adrenaline, he felt unstoppable, he could feel his own confidence building within him and Kise couldn’t help but hope that the other Tributes feared he and Aomine now, too.

The ride took around twenty minutes and pulled them into a semi-circle, made up of the other Tributes, before the president’s mansion, where Shirogane is waiting to deliver his speech. The welcoming speech itself didn’t take long (which was lucky considering that Kise’s blood was pounding too loudly in his ears for him to pay any proper attention) and then they’re looping back around the city and into the Training Centre’s main building. Evening quickly crept upon them on their way back, however that only accentuated their flames, it only added to their handsome beauty. Kise glanced at Aomine with a large smile on his face, stretching from ear to ear, and Aomine returned it. Kise’s stomach felt like it was coiling itself up, butterflies was too light a term for the deep affection he felt for his friend right then.

He ignored it. Kise pushed the feeling down so far in those few seconds between looking away from Aomine and back to the crowd that his heart plummeted down with it. Although that may have just been the realisation of what he was feeling.

That and the fact that it didn’t matter what he felt since one of them would be dead within a few weeks anyways.

* * *

Everything that happened after that occurred in a blur of colours and people; his memories muddled together into one, big stress-inducing haze. Momoi complimented them on their performance. Gushing with some sort of overflowing pride; she seemed content in the idea that he and Aomine had successfully drawn the eyes of the Capitol to them. Kise vaguely remembers her making a comment about creating pearls from pressured coal—he thinks that Aomine corrected her with a laugh. Although Kise would have liked to have gotten involved in the conversation during their walk back to their lavish apartment at the top floor of the Training Centre, he couldn’t quite rein his focus in.

His head was spinning after his previous realisation. He couldn’t be too sure about his feelings at that moment, but what he did know was that he didn’t want to die. But he wanted to protect Aomine more; only one person would exit the arena and Kise wasn’t going to allow him to die in his place due to his own fears. He wasn’t selfish. However, what was upsetting Kise the most was the thought that he’d never get a life with Aomine. Friends, enemies, or something more, they would never experience that.

It wasn’t until he was sat at the table eating dinner alongside Momoi, Aida, and Aomine that Kise realised just how deep he was falling.

“Kise?” Aomine asked, quietly; a kind of reserved air fell around his words. Kise looked up, his eyes felt heavy and prominent but he forced a smile regardless.

“Yes, Aominecchi?”

Aomine clicked his tongue and scowled but Kise knew that he wasn’t angry. He was concentrating and concerned.

“Are you alright?” He asked, and Kise had to bite back a sarcastic retort. “Your hands are shaking. . .”

Then it hit him, right in the gut and the chest and the head and he felt everything pummel him at once. The anxiety, the terror, the hatred of the Capitol, the longing for no-one to die, the fear of having to kill another, the wanting to live alongside Aomine. Kise blanched as his chest constricted and his gut convoluted dreadfully. He took a deep breath. Then another. And another and another and suddenly Aomine was at his side.

Despite Kise’s hearing being fuzzy, and despite the black spots dancing in front of his eyes, he could hear Aomine telling Momoi and Aida to give him some space; that he was going to take Kise outside so that he could get some fresh air so to hurry up and get the damn door open. Aomine’s hands were clammy as they wrapped around the bare skin of his forearms to get him to his feet; he manoeuvred Kise so that he was supporting him and keeping him moving—which proved a difficult feat with how Kise was trembling. He gently set him down on the ground, Kise would have sighed in relief at the cold breeze could he catch his breath.

“Kise,” Aomine dropped into his line of sight, all blue eyes and creased forehead. He’d get worry lines when he was older if he wasn’t careful.

What a shame Kise wouldn’t be around to see them.

“Ryouta, listen to me,” Kise’s heart leaped uncomfortably at the use of his given name, it was too much. It was all just too much. He tried to duck his head but, suddenly, Aomine’s hand found itself under his chin, holding it up. Aomine then pulled Kise into his chest, smothering his face in the solid warmth. Kise found the arms both a blessing and a curse but he couldn’t bring himself to tell Aomine to move them. No, he was too much of a sucker for tormenting himself apparently.

“Deep breaths, deep breaths, in . . . and out . . . Just breathe with me, yeah? You feel me breathing? Just try and copy it. It’s alright, Ryouta, just get it all out of your system then we’ll go get some sleep; sound good?”

Kise nodded against his chest. Aomine’s words vibrated in his chest and made him feel safer than any promise of life ever could. If he focussed properly, Kise could faintly hear the deep whooshing noise of Aomine’s lungs inflating and deflating. Taking a stuttering breath in, Kise held it for a few seconds before releasing it. He noticed that he’d bunched a hand up in Aomine’s black tank-top when he could suddenly feel the familiarity of a warm torso beneath his closed fist as his rapid trembling began to ease.

“Ao . . .” Kise tried, his voice sounding ridiculously breathless. “D-Daiki, I can’t do this,”

Aomine hummed, continuing his exaggerated breathing until he was sure that Kise no longer needed something to mimic. “You can, Ryouta, we’ll get through this. Just take each second as it comes rather than letting it all build up in your head. Just don’t think about it. Look up and at your surroundings, the Capitol looks pretty amazing at night once the darkness has covered all its ugliness and freakish people,”

Kise huffed out a small laugh at that but slowly removed his face from Aomine’s chest anyways. He could see his friend’s face out of his peripheral vision for a moment or two before he draped himself back over the other boy, resting his chin on his shoulder and wrapping his arms around him. Kise was very much positive that other sixteen year old boys would not behave like this towards their friends—however he believed that his actions were justified, and it didn’t matter anyways considering that no one could see them.

At night, the Capitol seemed to be alive with lights despite the shroud of inky darkness.

“Pretty,” mumbled Kise into Aomine’s shoulder.

Aomine laughed, short and low, “see, I told you it was! You never listen to me, Kise,” Kise silently mourned over the renewal of his surname as standard. “Anyways, you feeling any better? You haven’t had a panic attack like that since your dad.” He was referring to the death of his father so casually, but Kise didn’t mind considering that Aomine’s had suffered the same fate.

“Yeah.” He replied, “just exhausted.”

“What’re you thinkin’ about, Kise? I can never tell with you,” Aomine murmured gently.

“Death,” Kise said in a small voice, still allowing the flickering streetlights and glinting buildings and cool breeze to wash over him.

Aomine sighed, “you aren’t the only one, you know, I don’t want either of us to die either.”

There was a pregnant pause until Kise’s throat constricted painfully. Judging by the damp warmth on his bare arm, he wasn’t the only one crying.

“It’s not fair,” Kise’s voice cracked; he ignored it and gave a wet laugh when Aomine replied with;

“You sound like a petulant child,”

“Haven’t I always?”

Another pause.

Aomine’s arms tightened even more.

“I can’t lose you, Ryouta,”

Kise’s arms tightened in return.

“I can’t lose you either, Daiki.”

The two of them stayed like that a while longer before they deemed it too cold to be outside any longer. They went back into the warmth of indoors after Kise gave a half-hearted crack at saying maybe they should both throw themselves over the edge of the balcony before the Games. Rather than comment on how morbid a thing that was to say, Aomine instead pointed out that there was a protective force field preventing anyone from doing that; Kise didn’t miss how Aomine mumbled that that was a shame.

Kise didn’t feel like sleeping alone that night. It was lucky that Aomine didn’t want to be alone either. So they ignored Momoi’s request for them to please sleep in their own rooms, and instead threw themselves down into Aomine’s large bed—since his room was the closest. They’d been sharing a bed since they were children, so the concept wasn’t particularly foreign to them, however they’d both grown a lot since then so it was a struggle at first for them to both get into a comfortable position. It didn’t take long though, and the two of them fell into sleep quickly afterwards. Kise was drained and so he didn’t so much as fight when unconsciousness pulled him down before Aomine had even closed his eyes.

Their sleep was restless that night; neither of them dreamed.

* * *

It was just past ten in the morning when Kise and Aomine found themselves face-to-face with the other Tributes in the Training Centre.

Kise was mildly petrified.

It wasn’t that he couldn’t take a challenge; it was more to do with the fact that the other Tributes were so tall. Namely Murasakibara Atsushi, he had to be at least two metres. Kise didn’t quite like the idea of going up against a two-metre giant in a fight to the death. Nevertheless, Kise, like Aomine, kept his emotions to himself—his face remaining unreadable steel. Hopefully he looked confident.

The head trainer at the Centre seemed strangely familiar, familiar in a way that Kise couldn’t quite put his finger on until she announced her name; Aida Riko. Aida Riko. Surely she couldn’t be Kagetora’s daughter . . . could she? If the lingering glances she shot the two of them was anything to go by, Kise presumed she knew that her father was their mentor. Well, everyone probably knew considering that the Games and all the things leading up to it were recorded and broadcast across the Capitol and Districts.

Once Riko had finished giving instructions, the more assertive Tributes (namely the people from the Career Districts) instantly made their ways over to the areas where they knew that they could most make their best first-impressions. However, before Aomine and Kise could begin making their ways anywhere, Riko came walking towards them with a stern expression. It seemed as though she were looking down her nose at them as she analysed them both. Aomine shifted uncomfortably where he stood.

“You both have potential,” she suddenly said with fire in her eyes. “I can see that neither of you are anywhere near your maximum strengths right now—there’s only so much that Capitol food can do for you after all!”

Aomine took a step forwards after regaining his bearings, “what the hell are you talking about?”

Riko grinned, “look around you, boys, there’s a storm brewing. You’d best get to work and everything will fit in place.”

“Wh—”

“Now scram, I’m not meant to be talking two you right now! I’m gonna go see my father for some more info on you two charming boys!” Kise couldn’t tell if she was being sarcastic or not but he watched as she skipped away nonetheless. Apparently, the fact that she was supposed to be training them all how to fight had evaded her; it didn’t matter anyways because if the precision that Midorima was hurling a spear dead into the centre of a target from so far away was something to go by, there wouldn’t really be very much of a fight for Kise and Aomine. They’d have been killed from high-speed projectiles impaling them long before they could possibly be hunted down and targeted for hand-to-hand combat.

Aomine released a low whistle as he looked around. Whilst Kise kept his morbid amazement hidden behind what he hoped was a steely mask, Aomine displayed his clearly. However, when Kise looked closely at his friend’s face he noticed that he was more grimacing than smiling. Pulling his eyes away from Midorima’s muscular form, still going through the motions of hurling pin-point precision spears as though he were a machine, Kise looked about to see if he could find anywhere that he and Aomine could train.

Before he could, Aomine nudged him none too gently in the ribs, “Kise, look,” he hissed. Kise did as instructed and followed Aomine’s line of vision and found him to be looking at Murasakibara, who was lifting and throwing some of the heaviest weights available with ease. He looked bored. He looked deadly. Aomine, rather than looking scared, looked as though Murasakibara was an obstacle to overcome, he looked at him with a predatory eye and, suddenly, Kise saw in Aomine a sort of cold, dominating power; a killing intent.

The majority of the stations were taken by other Tributes, all attempting to comfort themselves in the thought that they’re better than everyone else; to not get in their ways. Realising that they’d been standing and staring for a little too long, Kise finally made a move. He began walking to the far end of the Training Room where he could see a bow and arrow, unused by anyone else.

Aomine didn’t follow.

Aomine instead turned and walked to the opposite end of the room, where a metal grid holding a variety of knives and throwing hammers sat, his sharp features still voracious.

Shaking off his unease, Kise forced down the slight tremble in his limbs as he wrapped his fingers around the sharp, cold metal of the bow. He lifted it from the metal, silver wrack and stared down at it; he could kill a man with this. This single instrument, so harmless as it lay now could, in the future, end someone’s life and that thought scared him. But he couldn’t let that frame of mind swallow him. No. He needed to enter a different frame of mind, one where he’s focused only on his goal.

Kise opened his eyes (not remembering having closed them in the first place) and drew an arrow from the metal sheath. He loaded the arrow and brought the bow up to his face; he drew the string back; aimed; fired. He barely hit the outer circle of the target.

“You are doing it wrong.” The sudden voice behind him made Kise jump—he didn’t remember hearing anyone come up behind him. Kise, startled, turned to see a small blue-haired boy looking at him with a deadpan expression.

“E-excuse me?” Kise cleared his throat after stuttering and attempted to regain his air of faux sureness, unable to conjure up this person’s name from his thoughts after being startled so suddenly.

The boy spoke again; “you aren’t holding it right. Pull the string back as far as you can, look down the arrow, and then release. Breathe in as you draw back and breathe out once you’ve fired.”

Kise absorbed the information he was being told but was still sceptical. Why was the enemy trying to help him? Was this a trap? The boy must have been able to read his face as he spoke again;

“I am not very good myself at applying the techniques but I do know quite a lot about archery as I know quite a lot about the other weapons. I know how to use them, but my body won’t allow me to carry out the moves that I know are right correctly.”

“But that doesn’t explain why you’re helping me; aren’t we enemies?”

The boy was about to reply when a muscular, fiery-headed boy came up behind him. His whole body radiated a burning aura—his eyes were molten fire.

“Kuroko! Stop it!” He barked, his lips pulling into a kind of snarl at the sight of Kise.

“I am sorry, Kagami-kun, but it seems there isn’t much else I can do.”

“Well stop helping the enemy!” He hissed, then much quieter, “how the hell do you expect me to protect you if you’re giving away all your secrets about weaponry to the guys that’ll use that knowledge to kill us? I know you aren’t one for irony but that’s just ridiculous . . .”

The boy, Kuroko, watched Kagami with an observant gaze, “I wasn’t aware Kagami-kun knew about such things as irony,”

Kagami smacked Kuroko lightly over the head with a growl, “shut up you bastard smart-ass!” He snapped. Kagami grabbed Kuroko by the wrist and dragged him away, but before he left, he swore over his shoulder at Kise and made it very clear not to go near Kuroko again.

Kise couldn’t help the tug he felt at his heartstrings; he wasn’t the only one trying to protect someone.

Envisioning the advice Kuroko had given him, Kise once again raised the bow. He took a deep breath in as he looked down the arrow and to the target, he pictured everything in his head, he pictured the time when he watched Aomine use a bow to hunt game. He exhaled and released the string.

Bulls’-eye.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to split this chapter into two parts because it was getting too long (like over 10,000 words), so expect the next half of this sometime within the next week.
> 
> Come talk to me at my Tumblr; icanshouyoutheworld


	5. Cutting ties

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kise knew it was going to be hard but Aomine didn't make it any easier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the support so far! Next chapter is the beginning of the actual Games! Finally! 
> 
> Come talk to me at my tumblr; icanshouyoutheworld

Despite the inference of his blond hair equating to stupidity, Kise knew that he wasn’t an idiot and he also knew that whoever created those sayings was likely stupid and pompous themselves. So when Kise noticed that he could recreate the actions he’d seen other people take with almost perfect fluidity, he knew that he was on to something. Rather than waste his time building up his own moves from scratch, Kise decided to embrace his new-found talent over the days that he had left in training, ignoring any advice he was given in favour of accomplishing his goal.

  
Firstly, after mastering the bow and arrow, Kise moved into the shadows to observe Midorima. He allowed himself to absorb the information like a sponge, taking it in and storing it away for further use. Takao was always nearby Midorima, Kise found, so he made to observe him too but later disregarded the idea when he saw that Takao was nowhere near as strong as Midorima. Although he did have an uncanny ability (or perhaps instinct) that allowed him to know where everyone in the room was. Kise decided he’d pay closer attention to that skill at a later date, for now he just needed to be threatening; so he paid close attention to the movement of Midorima’s muscles, the pattern they moved in to deliver those deadly spears; the steps he took; the thrust of his arm; the swing of his body. Two and a half hours later, Kise had matched it perfectly.

  
The next day, Kise moved on to observing Kagami and Kuroko. Kuroko hadn’t been joking when he said that he couldn’t apply his knowledge in reality—but the way he could seemingly appear and disappear at will was nothing to scoff at. He may not have skill, but it wouldn’t take much of that to drive a blade through your heart when you thought the area was clear. Kagami, however, was a completely different story. Despite not having as much finesse as other tributes, Kagami made up for it with sheer power. In hand-to-hand combat he was a monster; he could almost jump higher than Kise was tall, and his agility was something animalistic—Kagami was true to his given name. His prowess and strength was reminiscent of a tiger. Kise later set up the machine that allowed for one-on-one combat and took down all the dummies with his copied moves.

  
Later, he stepped up his game and took to watching Murasakibara. Whilst he knew that he wouldn’t be able to lift the weights that Murasakibara could, he’d at least be able to get the technique down. However, when he went to seek out his prey, he found that Murasakibara wasn’t throwing weights but rather practising his defence skills in one of the closed-off, glass-walled practice rooms. The dummies charged at him, appearing from all around him with holographic weapons; he dodged them all perfectly. The skills that Kise was observing were pieces of information that could be linked with other moves. It was perfect really, Kise thought, if he took note of these moves and stored them away for later, he’d be able to use them to defend himself whilst copying an attack move. If he kept this behaviour up and learned all of the secrets the other tributes didn’t know they had, Kise would be unbeatable; he’d be able to enjoy watching the faces of the other tributes as he used their own moves against them.

  
Filling slowly with greed and a lust for more, Kise’s predatory eyes then moved to the regal presence of Akashi. Akashi moved swiftly and with certain fluidity that Kise wasn’t sure he’d be able to recreate. By this point however, he was sure that he already knew enough to be almost as deadly as Akashi, too.

  
It was his third day in the Training Room and Kise hadn’t had a proper conversation with anyone in almost two days. He’d been much too preoccupied. He’d been eating more than usual and he’d gained muscle mass quickly, his sleep had been dreamless and his mind had been filled with nothing other than the present. Momoi had seemed uneasy around he and Aomine lately; Kise couldn’t figure out why.

  
Akashi was on his own when Kise crept upon him, he was working on one of the panels, his deft fingers moving quickly along the screen as he rapidly selected plants that were edible and those that were poisonous. Kise cocked his head to the side as he tried to figure out what it was that Akashi was doing. Once he found it out, Kise felt as though he could have slapped his own face—he’d been so focused on working on developing his attack and defence strategies that he’d completely forgotten about actual survival skills.

  
“I know that you are there,” Akashi spoke. Kise kept quiet for a moment from his place hidden in the shadows of a nearby column. It wasn’t his best hiding place; he should be copying Kuroko’s apparent invisibility skills instead. “Kise Ryouta, I know that it is you,”

  
Kise startled at the sound of his name. He composed his face and relaxed his shoulders, bringing himself up to his full height without seeming like he was trying too hard; he wanted a look that seemed natural and threatening and confident. From the way that a nearby tribute, Furihata Kouki, who was nearby gasped and scurried away as Kise pulled himself into the light, he’d say he was successful.

  
“Akashi Seijuuro,” Kise nodded in acknowledgement.

Akashi finished his work on the panel and stepped away with a perfect score on the screen above him. Kise would have to watch him again later, he didn’t quite catch all of the plants that he could and couldn’t eat.

  
Akashi turned to face him, tilting his chin back to look Kise in the eye. “It seems District Twelve has outdone itself this year,” though there was no venom in his voice, his smile didn’t quite match his sharp eyes.

  
Kise smiled his own faux smile in return, “it seems it has,” he agreed.

  
“Now, I’m not one to beat around the subject, so I think I shall get straight to the point here,” Akashi took a step forwards and into Kise’s personal space. For someone so much shorter than Kise, he didn’t seem intimidated at all. “You know that I am from a wealthy District, yes?”

  
“District One,” Kise replied with another curt nod.

  
“Well then, you are aware that I, and other Tributes from wealthy districts have been training quite a while in preparation for this. However, this year, the talent pool seems quite large and it is not only the wealthy District’s Tributes that it seems we have to watch for. So, I am proposing a truce between the strongest of us. We shall form an alliance and take down everyone else, then, only the strongest of us shall leave this alliance and hence become the Victor. Do you understand what I am asking you?”

  
“Oh, I understand completely. Who else would be in this alliance?”

  
Akashi’s eyes narrowed at the way Kise spoke. “I have already formed a group of the other Tributes, you are the last to be asked since you’ve been hiding yourself away so often lately. I have asked Midorima Shintarou, Murasakibara Atsushi, Aomine Daiki and—”

  
“Aominecchi?” Kise fought down a blush when he realised he’d accidentally used his nickname. Akashi seemed amused.

  
“Yes, Daiki appears most capable. I am surprised that you haven’t already been made aware of his talent considering that you two apparently know each other so well. However he has yet to accept or decline the offer anyways,” Akashi sighed, “please tell me your answer before the interviews,”

  
Kise shoved his hands into his pockets, “Will do,”

  
“Choose your choices wisely Ryouta, if you do not become our ally, you will become our greatest foe.” Akashi then stalked off to speak with one of the trainers and Kise was left with much more than he bargained for on his mind.

 

* * *

 

  
Kise had expected Aomine to bring up the fact that they’d been asked to join a Career alliance up whilst they were eating, but he didn’t. He didn’t really speak to Kise at all. Throughout training the next day, Kise firstly went about observing some of the other tributes, he picked up some impressive weapon-handling from Haizaki without him noticing; he observed Imayoshi sorting through the same challenge as Akashi had done yesterday and get a full score; he observed Takao and Izuki, both of with seemed to be visually gifted; he watched and learned until his whole body ached and he felt as though he were suffering from some sort of sensory overload.

  
So he went to find Aomine, to perhaps find some comfort, yet when Kise saw how intensely Aomine was training, he stopped completely in his tracks. Akashi had been right, Aomine was extraordinary. He was agile and manoeuvred with a deadly grace not unlike that of a panther. Feeling a deep tugging in his gut, Kise turned away with the intent of leaving but the sensation of eyes watching him dragged his head back.

  
Aomine was staring straight at him from where he was on the other side of the glass room, sweat dripped into his eyes but this didn’t dampen the intensity of his stare. There was something different about Aomine; it was as though he’d been moulded into a completely different person. Kise couldn’t help the clamminess of his own palms when his friend didn’t smile at him. He turned back and resumed training as though he’d seen straight through Kise.

  
Not feeling as though he wanted to do much more training, Kise left the room and went instead to find Aida, his mentor. He was standing up on the balcony overlooking the Training Room.

  
“Aida!” Kise called out, he was surprised when two heads turned instead of just one but quickly realised that it was only Riko.

  
“Just call me Kagetora,” he waved his hand dismissively, “I don’t care much for all that confusing honorific bull-crap,” Kise could easily tell he’d had a drink.

  
“We were just talking about you,” Riko chimed, holding her hands behind her back and smiling.

  
“You were?” Kise asked, scratching the back of his neck subconsciously.

  
“Yeah,” Kagetora answered, “you and Aomine. You’re both different lately; you’re changing.”

  
Kise hummed, “I know,”

  
Riko clapped her father’s shoulder before leaving, “I gotta go, I gotta help out some of the struggling Tributes.” Kise and Kagetora watched her go, not continuing their conversation until her head had completely vanished from the stairs and they heard her yelling out Furihata’s name.

  
Kagetora spoke up again, not looking Kise in the eye; “what’s going on with you and Aomine?”  
Kise mentally cursed at the bluntness of the question. “I don’t know what you mean,”

  
“Don’t give me that crap, you and him haven’t talked in days! Is it because of what he asked of me?”

  
“What?” Kise’s blood ran cold. What had been going on behind his back?

  
Kagetora ran a hand down his tired face and pulled Kise into an alcove in the wall to give them the illusion of a little more privacy.  
“I should have _known_ that he wouldn’t tell you . . .”

  
“What did he say?” Kise hissed. His body was trembling and he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to control it.

  
“Aomine wants to break ties with you. He asked me to train him separately to you; he _told_ me that he’d tell you _himself_ ,”

Kise blanched, his heart dropping to his feet. “that’s why he never gave Akashi an answer . . .”

  
Now it was Kagetora’s turn to be confused, “what are you talking about?”

  
“Akashi invited me, Aomine, Midorima and Murasakibara to join an alliance so that we, as the strongest, can battle it out at the end,” Kise explained, unable to hide the tremor in his voice. So much for his mask of confidence.

  
“Seriously?!” Kagetora gaped, “that’s unheard of! Kise you have to accept that offer, if you don’t, then that alliance will hunt you down and tear you apart,”

  
Kise nodded, “I know, I wanted to accept, but when I heard Aominecc—Aomine didn’t I wasn’t too sure. I think it’s best that I do now,”

  
Kagetora remained silent for a few moments, his eyes remaining trained on Kise’s face.

  
“Kise,” he sighed, “you’re not gonna like what I have to say but . . . I think it’s for the best that you and Aomine part ways; it’ll hurt less that way.”

  
“No.” Kise snapped, “I don’t care about the pain it’ll bring me, I already know that I’m going to die for him, Aomine means everything to me, you don’t understand!” His voice began to grow hoarse as he felt the tell-tale sign of tears burning at his eyes. Kise blinked them back—he wasn’t going to be so pathetic anymore, he’d put that behind him. He swore to himself that he wouldn’t have another episode like the one a few days ago.

  
“Look, Aomine doesn’t intend to let you die either, he told me that, but none of this means that you should willingly go into the arena to lay your life down for a friend that doesn’t want anything to do with you!”

  
“He’s more than a friend to me!” Kise yelled, “I can’t explain it, but . . . but I will lay down my life for him! He will live and I will die!”

  
“Just listen to yourself!” Kagetora took Kise by the shoulders and shook him, “you’re blinded by your own damn adoration! Aomine is the sensible one here! Listen to him for Gods’ sake! He’s cut ties with you so now you have to do the same for him or else you’ll be miserable and you’ll die a miserable death, ju—”

  
“I was born in District Twelve. I was born starving. I lived deprived. I knew death before I knew speech. I found the one thing in this world that made me happy and now I have to throw it away all because of the Capitol. I was created to die a miserable death.” Kise spat, his eyes glistening dangerously.

  
Kagetora remained silent and Kise didn’t waste the opportunity to push his lax hands away from his shoulders and storm out of the Training Room and back to the District Twelve apartment.

 

* * *

 

  
“What the hell, Daiki?” Kise growled into Aomine’s face. They’d just finished eating at the table in their apartment with Kagetora and Momoi and suddenly Kise couldn’t keep himself contained. He’d launched himself out of his seat, slamming his hands down on the table with enough force to make the cutlery rattle, and leaning forwards towards Aomine.

  
Aomine looked up, meeting Kise’s gaze. A flash of betrayal flitted across his face as he glanced quickly to Kagetora and then back to Kise.

  
“It’s for the best,” despite his outward appearance of confidence and self-assuredness, Aomine’s voice came out small and flat.

  
“For the best my ass!” Kise yelled, “how can you just throw all of this away! Do these past years mean nothing to you! We grew up together, we’ve been through hell together, and you just want to cut ties?!”

  
Aomine stood up then, whether as an escape or to make himself taller, Kise wasn’t sure.

  
“My decision has nothing to do with that!” Aomine grounded out.

  
“Then what _does_ it have to do with?!”

  
“The fucking Captiol!” Aomine swore loudly, ignoring Momoi’s outburst as she attempted to quiet him down, “If we keep up as close as we are then it’s just going to come around and bite us in the ass! They’ll use our relationship against us in the Games! You can’t expect them to use the information that we’re childhood friends and do nothing! They’ll hurt us, Ryouta, they’ll do something horrible and twisted and if we don’t distance ourselves we’re both gonna end up dead!”

  
“How the fuck is distancing ourselves better! I know that you’ve got good these past few days but so have I! I can take care of myself and I could protect you if I had to!”

  
“Why don’t you understand?! If we’re distant then we’re safer! They won’t try and psychologically torture us by killing one of us slowly or some shit like that, if we—”

  
Kise interrupted, “if we go our separate ways then what happens if it’s only us left?!”

  
“Then I’ll kill myself for you!” Aomine didn’t hold even a hint of sarcasm in those words, Kise could tell by how genuine it was that he meant it.

  
“You can’t, you are the one that’s going to live! Not me!” Kise cried desperately.

  
“How could you expect me to live with that, Kise? How?” Aomine cocked his head to the side and Kise could almost see his layers melting away. Kise had broken through his shell and was slowly reaching Aomine’s true self; not the one he’d been putting up as a form of defence lately.

  
“You could, you’re stronger than me, just . . . Please . . . Please . . . don’t leave me yet,” Kise bowed his head down as the first tear escaped. He could hear Aomine take a deep shaky breath.

  
“I’m not leaving you,” Kise felt his hopes lifting, “I’m just protecting the both of us.” And then they crashed back down.

  
Aomine left the dining area and went to his own room, slamming the door behind him. Kise heard the unmistakable sound of something being thrown at a wall. He slumped back down in his seat and buried his face in his arms. Momoi cooed and tottered over to him in her stupid heels. Kise felt her hand at his back and he shrugged it off viciously;  
“How’s this for entertainment? Are you people happy yet? Is this what the Capitol wants? Is it?!” Kise sobbed; he shoved Kagetora—who’d stood up at some point during the argument—out of the way and stalked to his room. He threw himself down onto the bed and screamed into his pillow, venting all of his frustration. He was just so tired. Kise just needed it all to end. He couldn’t do this anymore. He envied the Career Tributes who’d been raised in luxury and were practically born to win the Games.

  
He supposed his best bet would be to join their ranks.

  
By the time Kise had cried himself out it was late and he was sure that Momoi had gone up to bed. Kagetora was probably drinking. Aomine was crying. Kise knew this because not even the Capitol’s expensive walls could block the pitiful sounds of him apologising again and again and again in between hiccupping gasps for air. Kise longed to comfort him but he knew that only death would bring reprieve for the two of them—and they didn’t have long to wait for that.

 

* * *

 

  
By the morning, both Aomine and Kise were changed boys. There were still traces of red around their eyes but neither of them spoke a word about it. Kise felt as though the air between them was colder now, and all he wanted was to warm it with his arms wrapped tightly around Aomine’s body; but that wasn’t a possibility anymore. They still acknowledged each other’s presences but nothing between them was the same, rather than light-hearted conversations, there were hunting tips; rather than comforting each other through panic, there was only loneliness. However, within them both was a burning urge to protect the other.

  
During training, Kise told Akashi that he’d join their alliance and Akashi did his best to mask his surprise. Kise found out that Aomine had also accepted the proposal just half an hour earlier despite his earlier refusal; at least Kise would still be able to look out for him. Then, finally, the time for the judging came about; the Gamemakers and other important members of the Capitol would sit above the Training Centre and have each of the Tributes individually show their skills.

  
The room they sat in as they waited for their names and districts to be called was cold and metallic and the seats they were to sit in were no better. It was at times like these that Kise really wished the Capitol wouldn’t hold the visual aesthetics over comfort. It didn’t really help that the room had so much of a solemn atmosphere either—with the exceptions of people like Haizaki (who was bragging about his masonry skills) and Akashi (who was speaking with a terrified Furihata).

  
Slowly, gradually, the Tributes were called in, one by one, until it was only he and Aomine left in the room. There was little conversation between them.  
“You scared?” Kise attempted to at least fill the room with some noise, Aomine, leaning forwards in his chair with his hands clasped and his forearms resting against his legs, nodded in acknowledgement; he glanced quickly up to Kise and then back down at the floor.

  
“Should I be?” He made an attempt at smirking but the effect was lost to the distant look in his eyes.

  
Kise laughed at that, but it was a quiet, short laugh—nothing like his usual loud outbursts, more like a watered-down version.  
“I’m sorry,” Aomine said. Kise looked quickly to his friend’s face to try and see what he was thinking. “I don’t know what we should do, or what’s happening, but . . . Just do your best and I’ll do mine,” he mumbled. “The Capitol has twisted me already, and I was just stressed and tired and I just wanted to protect you, but I’m not any good at getting the words across,”

  
Kise continued to stare, his mouth gaping until he came to terms with the fact that Aomine was apologising to him. It made sense considering they’d never quite yelled at each other quite like that before. “We’ve got this, we can do it, we’re deadly as hell,”

  
Aomine cracked a small, genuine smile, “yeah. No matter what happens Kise, you have to promise me one thing . . .”

  
“Anything,”

  
Aomine looked back down at his hands as they tightened around themselves, “Just . . . remember who the real enemy here is,”

  
“What do you—”

  
“Aomine Daiki.” A voice called over the intercom, signalling that it was Aomine’s turn to go and perform before the Gamemakers.  
Kise pushed Aomine out of his seat in a friendly manner, trying to resolve the last of the tension, “knock ‘em dead, Aominecchi,”  
Aomine smirked lopsidedly, saluted, then turned to leave the room.

  
Remember who the real enemy here is . . .? What did that mean . . .?  
Kise continued to mull over Aomine’s words, Aomine’s apology, before he realised that he’d never actually said sorry himself. Kise hoped that it was one of those times where his actions spoke louder than his words and Aomine understood that he was sorry without him actually having to say anything. He didn’t really have much time to mull over everything before his name was called and it was his turn to perform.

  
He took a steadying breath and went through the motions of pulling himself together—gathering all the motivation and all the energy that he knew he had buried within him. Kise allowed confidence to rush through him; he’d prepared for this he was good at this. He’d show everyone that District Twelve wasn’t someplace to be scoffed at, not anymore. He’d do his family proud. He’d do Aomine proud.

  
Kise took large strides down the corridor and kept his head held high, being sure not to make it look as though he were looking down his nose. He heard someone comment on his appearance as he walked towards the centre of the room and introduced himself. Now was the time to put everything that he’d learned into practise—excluding when he’d have to use it in the actual Games, of course.  
Kise’s face took on a steely determination as he glanced over the weapons trolley. There were also various dummies around and the option to select the hardest level of holograms. Quickly, as he was pressed for time, Kise loaded the bow over his shoulder alongside the sheath of arrows, and then shoved some of the smaller knives through his belt loops, he checked that the rest of the weapons would be easy to remove as before he began his sequence.

  
This was really going to tire him out but screw it. The holographic people came hurtling towards him and Kise’s eyes snapped into focus—he recreated the vision he’d seen Takao do and made sure that he knew exactly where all of his opponents were. Then, Kise sinuously flipped backwards in a way he’d not of had the strength to do just a few weeks prior, and threw the small blades towards the holograms with a quick flick of his wrists; one hit dead in the heart, the other in the head. Two holograms down.  
Next his lithe form battled the three figures surrounding him in a one-on-one style he’d seen Kagami use; combining it with Murasakibara’s defensive strategies, it was perfect. Kise dodged and blocked all the attacks that came his way and then quickly disarmed the figure and snapped what would have been its neck by leaping up and wrapping his legs around it, quickly jerking himself in a way that could only spell the end for his opponent. He revelled in the satisfaction of it disintegrating into orange holographic cubes as he did so. Once the close range holograms were taken out, Kise pulled out his bow and arrow and effortlessly shot down the last two. Finally, as Kise simply had the urge to do more, he grabbed a spear from the wrack, gambolled forwards and launched it into the air so quickly the Gamemakers only had to blink to miss it—it wasn’t as perfect as Midorima’s perhaps was but it was damn close enough and it hit the mark all the same.

  
With laboured breathing, Kise looked up to the Gamemaker’s box, keeping a stoic expression for as long as he could before his own euphoria and adrenaline took over and he found himself winking up at them with a smirk to match.

 

* * *

 

  
Momoi hit him for it later. Kagetora laughed and ruffled his hair in a fatherly manner, but Momoi hit him; she packed a mean punch. Aomine, Kise and Momoi were seated on a sofa facing a large television screen, waiting for their scores to all be broadcast, whilst Kagetora was sat in a nearby reclined chair.  
They didn’t have to wait very long before the screen burst to life and the presenter for this year, Ogiwara Shigehiro, filled the frame. Kise didn’t listen much to the introductory speech, he was much too focused on his predictions for the scores; he wasn’t quite sure what to expect from himself but Aomine seemed quite content in the thought that he’d gotten a high score.

  
It was strange, Kise thought, how much the two of them had changed in such a short period of time, and they weren’t even in the arena yet—so the idea of what had yet to happen to them fired his adrenaline and released fear into his bloodstream, making his body feel clammy and sluggish.

  
“And first up, we have District One’s Akashi Seijuuro with a score of . . .” There was a tense moment before his number flashed up on the screen and Kise almost couldn’t believe his eyes. “T-twelve?!” Ogiwara stuttered, his dark eyebrows rising up towards his hair line. “A perfect score! This guy sure is something!”

  
But the high scores didn’t end there;  
District 1; Mibuchi Reo; 10  
District 2; Hanimaya Makoto; 10  
District 2; Haizaki Shougou; 11  
District 3; Midorima Shintarou; 12  
District 3; Takao Kazunari; 8  
District 4; Hyuuga Junpei; 8  
District 4; Kiyoshi Teppei; 8  
District 5; Imayoshi Shouichi; 9  
District 5; Wakamatsu Kousuke; 9  
District 6; Kasamatsu Yukio; 9  
District 6; Moriyama Yoshitaka; 8  
District 7; Himuro Tatsuya; 10  
District 7; Murasakibara Atsushi; 12  
District 8; Koganei Shinji; 7  
District 8; Mitobe Rinnosuke; 7  
District 9; Hayama Kotarou; 10  
District 9; Nebuya Eikichi; 10  
District 10; Kagami Taiga; 11  
District 10; Kuroko Tetsuya; 7  
District 11; Furihata Kouki; 5  
District 11; Izuki Shun; 8

  
Then at last it was time for the result of the District 12 Tributes and Kise couldn’t help but hold his breath. He was praying that, after all of his efforts, his score would at least come close to those that others had achieved. It felt a far-off bet but Kise’s hopes were fulfilled quickly.

  
“And now we move onto District Twelve!” Ogiwara said, shuffling the paper’s before him. “Aomine Daiki with a score of . . . Twelve!” Momoi and Kagetora leapt up from their seats to congratulate Aomine but Kise found that he was frozen to his seat until he heard his own score. “Finally, and I’ve got a good feeling about this one! Kise Ryouta with a score of . . . Twelve! I don’t believe it! We have some mighty fine Tributes this year! The amount of full houses is incredible! Miraculous! We have us a real generation of miracles this year!”

  
“This is spectacular!” Momoi cried, her eyes filling with tears, “I don’t believe this! You both did so well! I’m so proud of you both! District Twelve is the only District in which both Tributes got a full score so you can bet that you’ve gotten the attention of the Capitol!”

  
Kise wanted to reply, he wanted to scream out in happiness, to jump around and celebrate. He just couldn’t believe that he’d actually done it; he’d actually gotten a full score. But as Aomine turned away from Kagetora, who’d been thumping him on the shoulder heartily in congratulations, his smile dropped and his eyes turned to ice; his face morphed into something nightmarish, something to fear as Aomine stalked off to his room, his body moving with purpose. His face morphed into something that could be described as arrogance or overconfidence; it was an awakening. Kise would have liked to have thought that he knew how Aomine was feeling right then, what was going on inside his head, yet he didn’t.

  
And that terrified him more than any threat of murder ever could.

 

* * *

 

Next came the interviews. They weren’t something that Kise particularly cared for, he’d had enough of all this build-up to his slaughter and he’d had enough of seeing how much enjoyment the Capitol got out of it. At least when he’s in the Arena he won’t have to see the hideous faces of the Capitol folk. The suits Kise and Aomine were wearing almost seemed old fashioned, they almost looked as though they belonged in an old photograph. However, Shuuzou had used a beautiful shimmering black material to create their clothing; it was delicate and not at all overpowering. The backs of their jackets also had long, cape-like tails that came down to mid-calf.

  
Kise and Aomine didn’t really speak much as they waited their turn for their separate interviews. It was half because Kise was too scared to find out how different Aomine had become. Back in the carriages, Aomine had been pretending to be confident, his hands had been trembling as proof of his true fear—now he was stood stock still. His confidence was no longer a façade and his intent to kill was not to be belittled. However, Kise also didn’t strike up any conversation because Aomine didn’t look like he was interested in speaking to him. It hurt, but if his body language was anything to go by, it was easier to just leave Aomine leaning against the wall with his arms crossed in peace. Maybe his earlier apology was only for show.  
Eventually, Aomine went up for his interview with Ogiwara in front of the live Capitol crowd and Kise was left all alone in the room with nothing more than his own thoughts. He could, if he had wanted to, have looked up at the large screen pinned up on the wall and watched Aomine’s interview through but he found that he didn’t really want to.

Nevertheless, curiosity won out and he found that he did so anyways.  
As he walked across the stage, he was grinning slyly. He gave a wave to the audience before taking his seat and shaking an excited Ogiwara’s hand.  
“So,” Ogiwara said, leaning forwards with his elbows rested on his knees. “Are you deadly or what?” He laughed.

  
Aomine laughed in return; “yeah, I didn’t think I had it in me but would ya look at the score I got!”  
Ogiwara clapped him on the shoulder and Aomine leaned back comfortably into his seat afterwards. Kise felt as though he were watching a stranger wearing the skin of his best friend.

  
“Anywho, you must have been working hard in your training to pull that off! A perfect score is something we hardly ever see! And not to mention that the other boy in your District, Kise, got a perfect score too! Is there anything we should know? Any secret District Twelve training techniques?” Ogiwara prompted, the crowd backing him up with cheers.

  
“Nah, there’s nothing like that.” Aomine rubbed the back of his head, “I just found that I was a lot better at fighting than I had originally thought . . . I’m not sure how it was for Kise, but I awakened something whilst I was training and I’m grateful to the Capitol for allowing me this opportunity!”

  
Ogiwara, ever the dramatic, put a hand to his heart and pretended to wipe a tear from his eye. Kise didn’t watch anymore of the interview after that. He felt too sick after listening to Aomine compliment the Capitol; he knew in the back of his head that he was only doing it because he had to get people to like him to sponsor him, but that didn’t mean that Kise thought he’d ever go that far.

  
As his interview came to a close, Kise heard the joyous screaming of the Capitol and could only presume that Aomine had put his clothing to good use as, once again, Shuuzou had come up with the idea of lighting the cape-like part of their suits up with flames. Blue flames for Aomine and burning yellow for Kise. To activate it, all they had to do was spin once. When Kise had interrogated Shuuzou about the use of flames, he’d simply tapped his nose and stated that District Twelve deserved to be noticed.  
Watching as Aomine exited the stage on the screen; Kise didn’t know why it made him jump when Aomine came back down the stairs and walked towards him. Aomine stopped when he got next to Kise and raised a hand to grip his shoulder tight enough that it hurt. He looked to him, opening his mouth as though about to say something, before loosening his grip on Kise’s shoulder and allowing him to be hurried away from him and onto the stage. Kise wondered what Aomine would have said.

  
“And now, finally, we have the last member of our generation of miracles! Kise Ryouta!” Ogiwara introduced him and Kise fought down the nausea at the amount of people he was in front of and gave a charming smile. However, when Kise looked at all the faces of the overjoyed people, he found that he didn’t mind the attention quite as much as he thought he would have. Similarly to how he did on the train, Kise blew kisses with one hand to the adoring crowd. As he sat down in the seat next to Ogiwara, Kise flicked the hair out of his eyes with a quick movement of his head.

  
“My, my,” Ogiwara fanned himself, looking out to the crowd, “we have us quite the charmer here, don’t we?”

  
“Ah, I wouldn’t say that now,” Kise said modestly, secretly bathing in the attention he got.  
Ogiwara laughed before moving onto a different topic, “So, how’d you feel about your perfect score, Kise, it must have been hard to get, surely!”

  
“Believe me it was! But I trained really hard and ended up discovering a new talent which really helped me out,”

  
“And what was this new talent, may I ask?”

  
Kise wagged a finger in front of his face, “now, now, Ogiwara, if I told you, then what good would it be? We can’t have everyone knowing my abilities or else that will spoil the fun in the Games,” he said slyly.

  
“Oho!” Ogiwara leaned back in his seat, “we always like us a bit of mystery now, don’t we!”

  
Kise winked in reply and the crowd cheered him on, fuelling his adrenaline. The small talk continued on for a little longer before Ogiwara changed the subject to something more serious.

  
“You got anyone waiting for you at home? A girl maybe?”

  
“Nope, only my family,”

  
“What!” Ogiwara exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air, “a handsome guy like you has got to have a lady-friend waiting back home, or what chance do the rest of us have?!”

Laughing, Kise replied, “I don’t have anything like that,”

“Man,” Ogwiwara sighed, “what’s your motivation for the winning then? Your family?”

  
“Well, yes and no,”

  
“What do you mean?”

  
Kise knotted his fingers together and stared down at them. “I volunteered for my sister so that she’d be safe, and in those moments before the second tribute was chosen, I was sure that I was going to give it my all to win . . .” he trailed off and the crowd began muttering.

  
“Ah, your childhood friend, Aomine, is also to compete,”

  
“Yeah.” Kise confirmed, “he’s like family, and that means I have someone to protect.”

  
“You’re saying that you will lay down your life to let him live?” Ogiwara was slightly stunned, obviously not used to such emotional depth in a conversation on live television.

  
“That’s exactly what I’m saying. Only one person can leave the arena, and I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if it was me.”

  
“Well, I—I hope that everything works out, you never know what’s going to happen in Games! Best of luck to you both! Kise Ryouta, everybody!” Ogiwara said as a means of goodbye. The crowd applauded hesitantly and Kise rose to his feet. He dropped his model-like demeanour and turned swiftly on his heel to ignite his cape of flames with a straight face.

  
His expression didn’t change when he left the stage, and it didn’t change when Aomine pinned him against the wall and punched him.

  
It didn’t matter anymore. The Games were to begin tomorrow and as long as Aomine was living, he didn’t need his forgiveness or his friendship.


	6. Please read this note

AO3 has been blocked by my internet provider - therefore I've been posting this fic on fanfiction.net, please continue to support it there :) https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12524983/1/I-Pray-For-Your-Life-You-Forget-About-Mine


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